


Resorting To Rule Breaking

by TinyTeapot (DeliciousDanish)



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Winter Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 58,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21776443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeliciousDanish/pseuds/TinyTeapot
Summary: Two years ago, Ryuji moved away from his hometown to work as a photographer for Metaverse, Tokyo's best travel and booking agency. He's done well for himself, enough so that he feels good about going home to visit his mom for Christmas. At least that was his plan. A last-minute project comes up, one that might land him a promotion. It's an offer he can't refuse and normally he wouldn't mind except...he's going to have to work with Akira Kurusu, the one person he can't stand.Spending Christmas with the coworker he hates isn't exactly how Ryuji pictured his holiday.~*~Six years ago, Akira started working as a review writer for a small travel and booking company called Metaverse. Since then, he's worked his way up to team manager. With a high-level promotion headed his way, he has to make sure his assignments turn out to be big earners. There's just one problem, it's almost Christmas and his crew has bailed on him. His boss suggests a crazy alternative, doing the project with Ryuji Sakamoto. It's bad enough that he's a rookie, and even worse that Akira has a crush on him.Spending Christmas with the coworker he's in love with isn't exactly how Akira pictured his holiday.
Relationships: Amamiya Ren/Sakamoto Ryuji, Kurusu Akira/Sakamoto Ryuji, Persona 5 Protagonist/Sakamoto Ryuji
Comments: 67
Kudos: 225





	1. A Change Of Plans

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! It is me, the person who starts Pegoryu fics and then doesn't finish them. (Or at least takes her damn time finishing them.) I reeeeally wanted to write something for Christmas this year. Participating in the Pegoryu Discord Server's Secret Santa gave me the opportunity. 
> 
> This is for Voido of the Pegoryu Discord. I hope you enjoy it! <3
> 
> My inspiration for this fic was two things. One, I wanted to write something with a sort of Hallmark Christmas movie vibe. Two, I wanted to write a fic where Ryuji and Akira had conflicting feelings for each other. Normally I have Ryuji playing the part of a hopeless romantic, but this time he starts out not liking Akira very much. I promise this will be mended and a happy ending, in true Hallmark movie style, will occur. No smut this time! Only fluff! I rated it T for language and suggestive situations. 
> 
> I hope everyone enjoys their holidays, whatever and however they celebrate!

**Ryuji**  
  
Ryuji grits his teeth and tries his best to concentrate on his work. He only has a few more photographs to categorize and proof from his last shoot. One last assignment before his Christmas holiday can begin. It's a tedious task, made worse by the loud cheering coming from the company break room. Almost the entire staff has holed up in there. They're throwing a Christmas party. A final hurrah before the office closes for the season.  
  
He knows that he's lucky to be working for a company that gives him unconditional time off for the holidays. It's the only reason he's able to spend this year's Christmas with his mother. However, he'd be a lot more grateful if there wasn't an eggnog chugging competition ten feet away from his cubicle. He rolls his chair out from his desk and to the open doorway leading into the lunch area.  
  
A familiar head of messy black hair appears in his line of sight. Akira Kurusu, Golden Boy of the office. Ryuji should have known that he'd be at the center of all the chaos. Akira is judging the Eggnog Chug, strutting about like a proud rooster. He looks ridiculous, Ryuji thinks, dressed in his ugly Christmas sweater. It's twice as bad as the one he wore last year and that one got him permanently banned from future participation. Despite the ban, he still dresses up.  
  
Ryuji rolls his eyes and kicks back towards his desk. His chair glides smoothly over the floor, taking him past the other nearby cubicles. Most of them are empty, except-  
  
“What are you doing?” A familiar voice captures Ryuji's attention. He swivels his chair around to see Ann Takamaki staring at him from the cubicle across the aisle from his. She's his childhood friend and the reason he joined the company in the first place.  
  
After graduating from college, Ryuji had no plans for what he was going to do with his life. A sport's injury had derailed his dreams of becoming a professional athlete. Without a Plan-B, he had been floating from job to job, hoping something might catch his attention. Out of the blue, he received an e-mail from Ann. She had moved to Tokyo to work for a booking and travel company called Metaverse. Ann offered him an invitation to apply for a photographer position. He hadn't expected to get it, but here he is two years later.  
  
“Tryin' to finish my work, so I can leave,” Ryuji says, sliding over to sit beside her. She's putting the final touches on a reservation for a top-dollar client's wedding. He doesn't envy her, it looks complicated. Second to Akira, she's the most requested booking agent and 'Romantic Getaways' are her specialty.  
  
“How much more do you have to do?”  
  
“I have to finalize the hotel and make sure that the flight plan is in order. They want to go straight from their reception to Paris,” Ann tells him, stretching an arm over her head. One of her muscles pops and the two of them exchange a startled glance.  
  
“Turn around,” Ryuji commands, making grabby hands at her. She shifts in her chair so that he can get at her shoulders. He starts kneading the tension out of them. Ann sighs and leans back into his touch. “Can you believe that clown?”  
  
“Who? Akira?”  
  
“Yeah. I mean, he's got the whole damn office all riled up. How are we supposed to get anything done with all the noise?”  
  
“It's not that loud,” Ann laughs, glancing back to smile at him. “He's a nice person, Ryuji. You should get to know him.”  
  
“I don't hafta get to know him to know I don't like him.”  
  
Ann hums in reply as Ryuji works out an especially large knot at the base of her neck.  
  
“Go back to work,” She tells him, shaking his hands off of her shoulders. “You've got to finish up so you can go see your mom.”  
  
“I know, I know,” Ryuji sighs, although she's right. He hasn't been back to see his mother since moving to Tokyo. Neither time nor money has been on his side. He's looking forward to finally going home to relax, away from all the stresses of the office. Christmas is only three days away.  
  
“Let me know if you want to go on a coffee run later. I've got a feelin' we're gonna be here till late,” He calls over his shoulder as he slides his chair back towards his desk.  
  
“Get some more work finished first and I'll think about it,” Ann replies, making a shooing motion at him. He spins his chair to stick his tongue out at her. She makes a big show of dramatically rolling her eyes and turning her back to him. He smiles to himself as he settles in front of his computer, ready to get back at it.  
  
Loud applause echoes out of the break room. It's followed by the even louder tone of Akira's voice announcing results. Ryuji sighs.  
  
It's going to be a long day.  
  
* * *  
  
By ten o'clock that evening, everything is right inside Ryuji's tiny world. The Christmas party finally settled down enough that he was able to finish his work. Ann offered to give him a ride home, so he doesn't have to walk through the cold. Now he's sitting at his desk, nursing a cup of hot chocolate to kill time. Ann has to finish up a few last-minute emails, and then they can both leave.  
  
He slurps mini marshmallows off the surface of his drink and sighs in contentment. First thing in the morning he'll be on the train headed back home. Christmas miracles do exist.  
  
“Sakamoto!” A sharp voice catches his attention from across the room. Weaving her way through the maze of cubicles towards him is Kawakami, his boss. She looks angry or perhaps frazzled, it's hard to tell with her sometimes.  
  
“What's up?” He prompts as she comes near.  
  
“You usually don't do anything for Christmas, right?” She asks, coming to stand in front of him. He opens his mouth to answer, but she speaks over him, “Good, because I need you on an assignment. Our photographer has come down with the flu and can't travel. That would be bad enough if our review writer hadn't of drank eggnog at the Christmas party. Turns out she's lactose intolerant. Says she didn't know it had milk in it.”  
  
Ryuji goes to speak again, but she doesn't give him the chance.  
  
“Don't worry about the arrangements. I've already made them. I've got you booked onto a flight and of course, a room will be ready for you when you arrive at the resort. You'll need to pack warm, there's snow where you're headed.” She sets a stack of papers down on his desk and begins to fish through them, pulling a brochure up out of the middle.  
  
“You want me to fly to California?” Ryuji asks incredulously, his eyes scanning the first flap of the brochure. “Tonight?”  
  
“This project is time-sensitive,” She explains. “We need you to go to the resort, take photos, and slap together a review.”  
  
“I don't know anythin' about writing up reviews.”  
  
“I know you normally handle just the photography angle, but writing a review is simple. Besides, I won't be sending you alone. You can have help from-”  
  
“Miss Kawakami,” Another voice calls across the room. Within moments Akira Kurusu is standing next to Ryuji's desk. He's changed out of his Christmas attire, back to business Ryuji guesses. How disappointing. It would have been funny to see him working while wearing an ugly sweater.  
  
Akira glances down at Ryuji, momentarily distracted from whatever it was he came to say.   
  
“Sorry,” He continues, clearing his throat. “Don't worry about finding replacements. I can see if the resort will send us some stock photos. I'll go and handle business arrangements. When I get back I'll write the review and organize the magazine proofs-”  
  
“Even you can't handle an assignment this large by yourself,” Kawakami sighs. She starts rubbing her thumbs in small circles over her temples. “This is a huge overseas deal for the company. I don't want to botch it.”  
  
“I'm not going to screw it up,” Akira replies testily.  
  
“I know, because I'm going to send Sakamoto with you.”  
  
The two men glance at one another.  
  
“What? No way! I got plans!” Ryuji finally gets up the nerve to protest. “I'm not goin' to go on some mission to California. Especially not with him!”  
  
“What do you mean 'not with him'?” Kawakami asks, her eyes wide with surprise. It occurs to Ryuji that he might be part of a small minority of people who don't worship Akira. In fact, he might very well be the only person in the office who doesn't like him.   
  
He struggles to cover up his blunder, “I just-just mean that uh, he and I have never worked together. I don't know if it's a good idea to send us on such an important assignment.”  
  
“He's right,” Akira agrees, with little to no hesitation. It causes a spike of irritation to run up Ryuji's spine. “He's inexperienced.”  
  
“He's all we've got,” Kawakami hisses, lowering her tone in an attempt to keep Ryuji from hearing her words. “You aren't exactly proficient with a camera and I don't want stock photos.”  
  
“There's no one else?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“I'm sittin' right here y'know,” Ryuji grumbles, catching their attention. “I told you, I have plans. I'm not goin' to California.”  
  
Akira holds up his hands in a 'See?' sort of gesture and Kawakami rolls her eyes.  
  
“Sakamoto, I need you on this assignment. The company will pay you four full days of holiday pay. Plus I'll consider you for a promotion,” Kawakami fixes her dark eyes on him, her gaze sharp. “You aren't technically eligible for another year, but I'm willing to overlook that. If,” she says the word with no small amount of emphasis. “You do well.”  
  
Ryuji's head spins with surprise. She must be desperate if she's willing to try hard selling him on a promotion. It's a huge opportunity, one that surely won't come along again if he turns it down. He can see Ann tuning in from her cubicle. Her eyes are wide, a sign that she's as shocked as Ryuji is.  
  
“Could I have a few minutes to decide?” He asks hoarsely. It's a risk, one that might backfire. If he pisses Kawakami off, there's a good chance she'll retract the offer.  
  
“Ten minutes,” Kawakami relents. “I'll be in my office. Exactly ten minutes, Sakamoto. If you don't show, the offer is off the table.”  
  
She turns on her heels to walk off, beckoning for Akira to follow. He doesn't so much as glance Ryuji's way before he takes off after her. As per usual, Ryuji feels his irritation grow. It's going to be a pain in the ass to work with someone as pompous and self-absorbed as Akira. That is, if Ryuji accepts the assignment.  
  
“I've gotta call my mom,” Ryuji says offhand. Ann nods in agreement. He gets up to head out into the hallway. It's hard for him to know what to do. Kawakami's offer is huge, but Ryuji already made plans to spend the holiday with his mother.  
  
The phone line rings, once, twice, then, “Ryuji?”  
  
“Hey, Ma,” Ryuji greets, leaning his shoulders heavily against the wall at his back. “How are you?”  
  
“I'm fine.” She pauses, then asks, “What's wrong?”  
  
“It's about me comin' out to see ya. Somethin' came up at work.”  
  
“Is everything okay?”  
  
“I mean, kinda. My boss wants me to go on this assignment thingy. It'll get in the way of our Christmas plans,” He begins, his shoulders sagging. “She says if I go and do well, she'll promote me.”  
  
“Ryuji,” his mother's voice is soft, the way it always is when they have these kinds of talks. “If you think it might help you further your career, then you need to go.”  
  
“I know but I feel real bad about not comin' out for Christmas. You had been talkin' about cookin' and doin' gifts. I don't wanna blow you off.”  
  
“You're not blowing me off. I understand. This job is important to you.”  
  
“It is, but... So are you.”  
  
“I'm flattered, but you should still go,” His mother halfway laughs and it's a good sign. His mood lifts a bit. “What else is bothering you? If you're not jumping at that opportunity then that means there's a catch.”  
  
“I'd be goin' with Akira.”  
  
“Akira,” She does laugh that time, knowing all too well who Akira is and Ryuji's feelings of dislike for him. “Do you think you can handle working with him on a project?”  
  
“I can if he stays in his lane,” Ryuji grumbles the words, earning another soft rumble of laughter from his mother. “So you think I should do it?”  
  
“Absolutely. We can make other plans in the meantime. We could do a Christmas-New Years.”  
  
“I'm real sorry. I know you're not mad or nothin', but...”  
  
“I understand. You need to do this.”  
  
“I'll call you when I get there. We're goin' to California, I guess,” Ryuji checks the time. He's got to get to Kawakami's office. “Sorry Ma, I gotta go. They're waitin' on my answer. I'll call you back soon.”  
  
“Have a safe trip. Keep me updated.”  
  
The two say their final goodbyes, with Ryuji feeling both better and worse. He hated having to cancel his plans, especially when he had been looking forward to them for so long. On the other hand, he's glad to have his mother's blessing. If it lands him a promotion, it means he'll be making more money. More money means he'll be able to afford to visit more often. Honestly, it's a win-win for everyone.  
  
“I'll do it,” Ryuji says as he enters Kawakami's office. Both her and Akira are back behind her computer, their faces illuminated by the screen. They glance up at him, blinking owlishly.  
  
“You'll go?” Kawakami asks, rising up out of her chair. “Good. You should run home and get packed, your flight leaves in two hours.”  
  
“Two hours?!”  
  
“I'll drive you,” Akira offers. “I need to pick up my things along the way, and then we can go by your place.”  
  
“Sure. I uh, I need to grab some things from my desk,” Ryuji tells him. Akira nods curtly.  
  
“I'll be in the parking garage, second floor, row A.” Akira says, then mutters something offhand to Kawakami. He hightails it out of the office, bumping shoulders with Ryuji in his haste. He doesn't apologize.  
  
“What an ass,” Ryuji hisses under his breath, put off by the other man's hostile behavior.  
  
“You'll get used to it,” Kawakami assures him. “Don't let me down, Sakamoto.”  
  
“I'll do my best not to.”  
  
Ann is waiting for him when he returns to his desk. Her eyes are wide with excitement and as soon as he comes near, she leaps forward to throw her arms around his neck.  
  
“Congratulations~” She exclaims. “You're as good a promoted!”  
  
“Ann, c'mon, let go,” Ryuji ducks out from under her arms and moves towards his desk. The assignment material is right where he left it, though he can see that Ann helped herself to a peek. The papers are out of order. “I haven't even started the assignment. There's still plenty of time to screw it up.”  
  
“You won't! I know you. You're one of the best photographers we have.”  
  
“I ain't worried about takin' photos. That's the easy part.”  
  
“...Wait, you're worried about working with Akira. Aren't you?” Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Ann crossing her arms over her chest. “Ryuji, he's the best in the business. He'll teach you if you let him. This a learning opportunity.”  
  
“It's self-inflicted torture,” Ryuji retorts, shaking his head. What has he agreed to? “Ann, I gotta go. He's gonna give me a ride to my place, so I can get my stuff.”  
  
“I thought I was taking you home.”  
  
“You were, and I appreciate it, but we have to catch a plane tonight. So I have to hurry.”  
  
“I understand,” Ann says in a soft tone. She catches hold of one of his arms, holding it until he turns to look at her. “You're going to do fine. Handle this like you would any other assignment. Focus on taking your pictures.”  
  
“I got it,” Ryuji says around a smile. Ann's pouting out her bottom lip, a tactic she honed during their childhood. It's silly, but it always cheers him up. He pulls her into a tight hug against his chest. “See you when I get back. Have a good Christmas with Shiho.”  
  
“I will. We have the whole thing planned out. It will be romantic and gooey and all the things you hate most,” Ann coos at him. She smacks her hands down against his backside, causing him to jump. “Go on. Don't keep Akira waiting.”  
  
“I'm goin'. I'm goin'.”  
  
“Don't get caught under any mistletoe~ I've heard rumors around the office that he's a great kisser.”  
  
“Ann!” Ryuji ducks his head in embarrassment, heat rising to the tips of his ears. She starts laughing and he shoots her a dubious look. Gathering the last of his things from his desk, he rushes towards the exit, “Bye! I'm goin'!”  
  
“Have a good trip!” Ann calls after him. Her laughter follows him all the way out into the hallway.  
  
Ryuji heads down to the parking garage, 'second floor, row A' he recalls. Akira is waiting for him, leaning back against his car with his arms crossed over his chest. It's a sleek black convertible, with chrome accents that gleam in the overhead lights. Of course, Akira would have a sports car. It's exactly the kind of asshole vehicle that Ryuji imagined for him.  
  
When he approaches, Akira lifts his face up to look at him. His expression is soft, so much so that it gives Ryuji pause.  
  
“I wanted to apologize for how I acted,” Akira says in a low tone. “I wasn't trying to insult you, especially in front of Kawakami. I'm just leery about working with someone I don't know well.”  
  
“Nah, man. I don't blame you. I haven't done a lot of fieldwork,” Ryuji runs a hand back through his hair and scuffs a foot against the ground. “You don't want a rookie to mess up the project that has your name attached to it. I understand.”  
  
“I'll be counting on you to take some good photos.”  
  
“I won't let you down,” Ryuji finds himself saying. Despite his reservations about them working together, he does want to do a good job.  
  
Akira stares at him for a moment or two, then says, “I know you won't.”  
  
Ryuji is still reeling from those words as Akira unlocks the car and climbs inside.  
  
“It's open,” Akira says when Ryuji doesn't move.  
  
“Oh, sorry,” He walks around to the passenger side to get in. The inside is as nice as the outside, leather seats, and perfectly polished consoles. Ryuji tries to be mad about it, but he can't find it in himself. He obsesses over Akira's words the entire drive to the other man's apartment.  
  
“Come up with me. I won't be long, but it's cold out here. Even with the top up,” Akira parks his car and climbs out, waiting for him to follow. Ryuji has to admit to himself, he's a little curious about what Akira's apartment looks like. He imagines it will be as fancy as his car, if not more so.  
  
They head up two flights of stairs and down a long hallway to get there. Akira unlocks his apartment door and says over his shoulder, “Sorry about the mess.”  
  
The two of them step inside, greeted by the lull of music coming from deeper within the apartment. Akira slips out of his shoes and goes on ahead to turn on the lights. Ryuji grabs hold of the door frame for balance as he takes his own shoes off.  
  
When he glances up, he's got a full view of everything, and it's not what he was expecting. The apartment is clean if a little barren. Ryuji isn't sure what part of it Akira considers a 'mess'. He can't see a single thing out of place, what little there is. The furniture seems thrown together, nothing matches anything else.  
  
There are houseplants everywhere Ryuji looks, on nearly every solid surface. They're all green and thriving, a far cry from the struggling cactus he has back at his own place. He never would have thought Akira to be someone with a green thumb.  
  
“Do you live alone?” Ryuji asks.  
  
“Sort of,” Akira says, clicking his tongue a few times. A strange noise comes from the bedroom and moments later a small tuxedo colored cat appears. It trots over to Akira, it's voice rising the closer it gets until it's yowling at his feet.  
  
“Oh! You've got a cat! What's its name?”  
  
“Oh, it's uh, he's Morgana,” Akira says, speaking as if he's surprised Ryuji bothered to ask. He kneels down to scoop the rowdy feline up into his arms. “I'm going to feed him, and then we can go. My bags are packed, I just have to grab them.”  
  
“Will he be okay if you leave?” Ryuji asks. He doesn't know much about keeping cats. Growing up he couldn't have pets, but there were a few neighborhood cats he used to feed. He reaches out a hand, allowing Morgana to sniff it before giving the cat a gentle scratch behind the ear.  
  
“My sister will come by to feed him. You might know her, she works in tech. Futaba.”  
  
“Oh yeah! She's your sister?”  
  
“Well, only sort of.” That's all the explanation Ryuji gets before Akira disappears into his bedroom. He takes Morgana with him.  
  
Alone now, Ryuji awkwardly perches himself on the edge of the couch to wait. He clasps his hands together and begins bouncing one of his legs, a nervous habit he's had for as long as he can remember. He looks around, noting that Akira has a lot of books, there are shelves all over the living room filled with them. There is no TV, but he's got a stereo. It's where the music from earlier was coming from. A woman is singing against a background of slow piano, the lyrics melancholy and sad.  
  
“Do you like it?” Akira asks, causing Ryuji to jump. He hadn't heard the other man come back.  
  
“Yeah, it's good,” Ryuji says with a half nod. “What is it?”  
  
“It's called Behind The Mask.”  
  
“It sounds kind of lonely.”  
  
“It's definitely that,” Akira agrees, then hastily adds, “I leave music on for the cat.”  
  
“That's a nice thing to do,” Ryuji tries not to smile. It's unexpected to see that Akira has a soft side, though Ryuji tries not to let himself get too comfortable. He might be acting pleasant right now, but it's only a matter of time before the other shoe drops. “Ready to go?”  
  
“I'm ready.”  
  
They stop by Ryuji's place on the way to the airport, and he forces Akira to stay down in the car. His place is clean, but not nearly as nice as Akira's is. Somehow he feels ashamed of that.  
  
His bags were already packed for his planned trip to visit his mother. He removes the Christmas gifts that he was going to take with him. He won't be needing those anymore. It leaves a gaping hole in the middle of his suitcase. He fills it with extra socks, knowing that there's snow and cold weather ahead of him. You can never have too many socks.  
  
Security at the airport takes up most of their time. The line is long and stuffed with crabby adults and their fussy children. Ryuji's not a fan of flying, if only for the fact that the airport stresses him out so much. He taps his foot as he waits for his turn through the ticket scanner.  
  
“Are you alright?” Akira asks, his breath stirring the hair on the back of Ryuji's head. They're pushed close together. Caught in front of a group of noisy teenagers and behind a snooty woman with screaming children. Ryuji turns around so that he can be heard over the smallest child's wailing. He and Akira are the same height, he realizes too late. It's awkward to speak with their faces only a few inches apart.  
  
“Fine,” Ryuji grits out, turning his head down towards the floor. “I jus' hate airports.”  
  
“It will be better once we're through security.”  
  
“I know, it's just the gettin' there part.”  
  
“Do you want me to help you with your earrings?” The question throws Ryuji for a moment, until he remembers all the metal he's got stuck in his head. Since he works in a laid-back office, his piercings aren't usually a problem. He hadn't even considered the fact that they're headed for a metal detector.  
  
“Awww man, I forgot,” Ryuji tosses his bags to the ground and moves his arms up to start the removal process. One of the teenagers from behind bumps into Akira. It sends him forward into Ryuji and Ryuji into the woman with the children. She barely glances at him, too caught up in a phone conversation she's been having. The back of the line has shifted forward, moving into the small space created by their stumbling. Akira and Ryuji are practically chest to chest.  
  
“I swear to fuck-”  
  
“I got it,” Akira lifts his arms up and wordlessly begins to remove the rings lining the outer shell of Ryuji's ear. There's three on each side, plus regular studs. “Why all the metal?”  
  
“I dunno. I like 'em I guess,” He mumbles, reaching up to remove the ring at his right eyebrow. “That and Ann's girlfriend Shiho works as a piercer. I was sort of her guinea pig when she was first startin' out.”  
  
“...Shiho does that sort of work?”  
  
“You know her?”  
  
“I've met her on a couple of assignments I've done with Ann,” Akira explains.  
  
“You don't gotta go to all the trouble,” Ryuji says, keeping his eyes lowered so that he's not staring.  
  
“I don't mind.”  
  
It's hard to hold still. Akira's fingers are cold and the soft brush of them causes a chill to run down Ryuji's spine. His heart races frantically inside his chest, pumping unnecessary adrenaline through his body.  
  
“Your face is red,” Akira points out, skimming his knuckles down the side of Ryuji's left cheek. Maybe it was by accident, but it still causes Ryuji to flinch a bit. “Sorry.”  
  
“S'fine,” Ryuji mumbles, receiving his jewelry from the other man. He takes it and tucks it all away in the front pocket of his bag.  
  
The line continues to crawl until finally, they make it to the bag scanners. It's a scramble to remove shoes and belts. Ryuji trips on his way into the metal detector, in full view of Akira, who rushes over to pick him back up.  
  
“Thanks,” he grunts once they're on the other side.   
  
“Don't worry about it,” Akira says with a reassuring smile. Ryuji finds it hard to look him in the eye after that.  
  
They make it to their gate with half an hour to spare. Some of the gift shops are open, so they kill time by perusing the shelves full of overpriced nick-nacks. Ryuji overpays for a soda and a bag of chips. Akira settles for carbonated water that ends up costing twice as much money.  
  
Airport pricing doesn't make any sense.  
  
“We're in first class,” Ryuji notes with surprise. They're standing in yet another line, waiting to actually get on the airplane. “I've never sat in first class before.”  
  
“It's actually the least safe place to sit,” Akira says offhand, earning a sharp look from the blond. “What? Usually, planes go down nose-first. The closer you are to the front the harder the impact.”  
  
“For real?! You're gonna tell that me _now_?!”  
  
Akira laughs and Ryuji hates how much he enjoys the sound of it.  
  
They have priority boarding, so there's little fuss when they actually go to get on the plane. First-class is twelve rows of double seats, with extra legroom and no middle chair. Akira graciously allows Ryuji to sit by the window and even goes so far as to put his bags up in the overhead bins for him.  
  
They settle in to await take off. Ryuji pulls a set of earphones from his pocket and hooks them to his phone to listen to music. Akira crosses an ankle over his knee and uses his leg to balance a large laptop. From what Ryuji can see, he's typing something up for work.  
  
“You gonna work the whole flight?” Ryuji asks.  
  
“Most of it. I'd like to get ahead,” Akira glances sidelong at him. “I don't sleep well on flights, so this is easier.”  
  
“Oh. Would switching places help?”  
  
“It's a nice offer, but I'm fine.”  
  
Ryuji is secretly relieved. He didn't want to give up his window seat.  
  
Everything is fine for the first fifteen minutes of the flight. They're in the air and cruising when Ryuji feels the first stirrings of discomfort. His ears keep popping and his head has gone dizzy. He tries to focus on his music, but he isn't processing any of it. His hand reaches up to aim the overhead AC vent directly towards his face. It helps a little, but he still feels like his stomach is churning. He shuts his eyes and tries to fall asleep.  
  
A short time later, he startles awake, at first forgetting where he is. His seat's been laid back and a bag of ice sits heavy behind his neck. When he turns his head to the side, he sees Akira staring at him.  
  
“Are you feeling any better?” he asks, eyes lined with concern.  
  
Ryuji's entire body sings with embarrassment. Maybe he'll get lucky and the glass will break on his window. He'd gladly let himself get sucked out, anything to get away from his current situation.  
  
“I've been worse,” Ryuji reports. “Sorry. I don't usually get sick like this.”  
  
“Sometimes it just happens,” Akira soothes. He taps a finger lightly against Ryuji's tray table. It calls his attention to a can of ginger ale and a tiny pack of two soda crackers. “I have water too if you need it. You should start with those first.”  
  
“Got it. Thank you.” Ryuji hunches over, halfway leaning against the wall. His head is still spinning nebulously, though it's better than it was before. He sips the soda and takes tiny bites out of the soda crackers. Akira glances at him every so often, checking his progress.  
  
He finishes off half of the can and both of the crackers before falling back to sleep. He doesn't wake up again until after they've landed. Akira's jacket is draped over him like a blanket. It's so cozy that Ryuji is loathe to get up.  
  
They have to endure one more flight after arriving at LAX. The next one is only two hours long, a trip on a much smaller and less crowded plane. Ryuji is able to have an entire row to himself, as he and Akira are the only ones in first class. He stays awake to watch the in-flight movie and has no more issues with air sickness.  
  
When they land the second time, Akira picks up their rental car. It's an hour's drive up to their final destination. Though the time seems short compared to what they've already experienced. From start to finish, the entire trip has taken over twenty hours. They arrive at the hotel close to the same time they left Japan.  
  
While Akira checks them in at the front desk, Ryuji waits with their bags by the elevator. The entire ride up the mountain, Akira was nearly silent. It's weird to hear him speak again, and even more so because he's speaking in English.  
  
It's hard for Ryuji to blame him for a lack of good conversation. Akira didn't sleep on either of the flights. He also insisted on being the primary driver for the trip up the mountains. Add that to the fact that he was at work the entire day before. Ryuji can hardly imagine going that many hours without sleep.  
  
“You gotta rest once we get in there,” Ryuji tells Akira once they're in the elevator. It earns him a halfhearted smile. “I mean it, man. Shower and then go straight to bed.”  
  
“I won't argue,” Akira says, leaning his head back to rest against the wall. The elevator chimes to announce their floor, and then they're off again. The suite is at the end of the hallway, one of only four others on the same level. Akira uses his key card to let them inside.  
  
It looks about like an apartment, with a living room, dining area, and a small kitchenette. Beyond that Ryuji can see a patio, though it's covered with a thick layer of building snow. He hasn't seen fresh snow for a while. There was plenty of it where he grew up, but never in Tokyo.  
  
He sets his bags down and crosses the room to open the patio door. The cold air hits him right in the face, but he doesn't mind it. His shoes are back by the entrance, so he doesn't go out, but he does kneel down to run his fingers over the surface of the snow. It's the wet sticky kind that's good for making snowballs.  
  
“We have a problem,” Akira's voice comes from behind him, edged with irritation.  
  
Ryuji stands, “Yeah?”  
  
“There's only one room and one bed.”  
  
“What?!” Ryuji's eyebrows shoot up in alarm. “I thought this was like, a suite or whatever. With more than one room.”  
  
“Do you see a second room?” Akira spits. “It's a honeymoon suite, apparently.”  
  
“Can't we call the front desk? Ask them for a room change?”  
  
“We can try,” Akira goes over into the kitchenette, where the service phone is located. He dials the front office and waits while it rings. It's clear from the start that it's not going well. Akira hangs up and sighs heavily.  
  
“They're booked for Christmas,” He explains, glancing sideways at Ryuji. “We can wait for a cancellation, but it's unlikely.”  
  
“Shit, okay,” Ryuji glances around, his eyes falling on the sofa. Akira needs sleep in a bad way, so he decides to offer, “I can sleep on the couch.”  
  
“I don't want you to have to do that. I can sleep on the couch.”  
  
“No way, man. I've already made up my mind. You need more rest than I do anyway.”  
  
Akira looks like he wants to argue, but he doesn't.  
  
“Go ahead,” Ryuji insists, gesturing towards the bedroom. “Go get cleaned up and get some rest. It hurts lookin' at you.”  
  
It takes a bit more coaxing, but eventually, Akira goes. Ryuji mills about in the main room, pacing to keep himself awake. He knows that if he sits down he'll be out.  
  
Fifteen minutes later, Akira reappears. He's got his hair pushed back away from his face, held into place via an elastic hairband. Ryuji stares, impressed by the other man's striking features. When his hair isn't down in his face, it's easier to see the sharp cut of his jaw or his brilliant gray eyes.  
  
“Your turn,” Akira says as he enters the kitchen and sets about making himself a cup of tea. There's a small basket of various flavors next to the microwave. The room has actual dishes, stored away in cabinets over the sink. Akira pulls down a small black mug and fills it with steaming water from the sink.  
  
“Don't you wanna use the coffee maker?” Ryuji asks. “I'm sure it heats water.”  
  
“How often do you think they clean them?” Akira asks petulantly.  
  
“I dunno. Shouldn't they do it after each guest?”  
  
“They should, but they often don't.”  
  
“For real?” Ryuji comes to stand beside Akira as he lifts the small coffee maker up off the counter. The outside of it looks clean, but when he lifts off the back cover, the inside is lined with water scale and dust. “Well, that's gross.”  
  
“Companies don't think we look for things like that, but we do.”  
  
“I wouldn't have ever thought to look for it.”  
  
“Keep it in mind for future trips,” Akira sets the coffee maker down and returns to his tea. “Go ahead and shower. I'll drink this while I wait to keep me awake.”  
  
“Sure, I won't be long,” Ryuji grabs a change of clothes and heads off to the bathroom.  
  
They're definitely staying in a honeymoon suite. The bed is generously sized for two people. It could easily fit a man and a woman with room to spare. Or two men, Ryuji thinks offhand, though he quickly shies away from that thought. There's no way they're going to share it.  
  
The bathroom is designed for couples. A large tub takes up most of the space. Like the bed, it has room and depth enough for two people. The shower stall is three panes of perfectly clear glass, they leave very little to the imagination. He supposes that for two people on a honeymoon, that might be a desirable feature.   
  
The counter has two sinks and double mirrors. Akira's already set his items out next to the sink on the left, so Ryuji takes the right one for himself by default.   
  
After washing up, he returns to the main room. Akira is nodding off at the dining table. His tea was left long forgotten in the kitchen.  
  
“Go to bed,” Ryuji says gently, shaking Akira awake. He mumbles out a noise that sounds halfway like 'goodnight' before moving like a zombie to the bedroom. It's endearing in a way Ryuji can't describe.  
  
The space of their suite is homey. There's a large leather sectional set against a far wall, where Ryuji will be sleeping. A fair-sized TV sits on a stand across from it. Everything is, of course, mountain-cabin themed. The coffee table looks like rough-cut logs. A plaid throw blanket hangs over the back of the couch, and pieces of real deer antlers form an odd chandelier. It's tacky but Ryuji can't completely hate it. He's never been in such a nice hotel room before. Most of the resort assignments are given to the more experienced staff members.  
  
 _To Akira._ Ryuji thinks offhand.  
  
Akira is... odd. After spending nearly a full twenty-four hours with him, Ryuji has to at least admit that much. He's finicky about eating, always opting for something healthy in reply to Ryuji's choice of junk food. Coffee might literally run in his veins, for the large amount of it he seems to drink. He also seems unable to drink regular water. Everywhere they went, Akira would always buy the carbonated kind.  
  
Ryuji is thinking about how weird that is when Akira appears suddenly from the bedroom. It startles him bad enough to make him jump.  
  
“H-Hey, man, wassup?”  
  
“Blankets,” Akira says blearily, pointing a finger towards the bedroom. “You'll need to come to get them for the couch.”  
  
“Oh, right,” Ryuji hadn't thought of that and if he had, it likely would have been after Akira had gone to sleep. “Thanks for remembering.”  
  
Akira hums in reply. He leads the way into the bedroom and begins stripping the first few layers of covering off the bed. Mumbling about 'sleeping hot' he offers everything over to Ryuji. It leaves him with the top sheet and two pillows. He stacks the pillows and hastily adds them to what he's already discarded.  
  
“I brought mine,” He explains, producing a pillow from an extra duffel bag that he brought with him. It's the only thing inside the bag and it takes everything for Ryuji not to make a joke about it.  
  
“Can't sleep without it?” Ryuji asks instead.  
  
“Yes.” Akira looks at him sharply, like he's expecting Ryuji to say something else.  
  
“I get it. It's cool,” Ryuji offers in a mild tone. Akira sighs and his shoulders drop a bit, a clear release of tension. “Go to sleep, man.”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
Ryuji takes that as a cue to leave, so he does, taking his bedding back with him to the couch. Once he's situated, he sends off a text to both Ann and his mother to let them know that he made it. Ann texts back right away and the two of them banter back and forth for a while until he falls asleep.


	2. Downhill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of snowboards and secret crushes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! Chapter two! I don't have a lot to say this time around, but I hope everyone is having a good holiday! How is there only five days left until Christmas? Yikes!!!!

**Ryuji**  
  
Ryuji wakes to the smell of food. He drags himself out from under the covers and goes seeking the source. Eggs, bacon, a giant Belgian waffle, they're all sitting on the table waiting for him. Akira is already there, sipping coffee out of a to-go cup. He's halfway hidden behind the screen of his laptop but when Ryuji approaches, he glances up.  
  
“Good morning,” he greets as Ryuji sits down. “I didn't know what you would want, so I had room service bring a bit of everything.”  
  
“Thank you,” is Ryuji's sheepish reply.  
  
“Have as much as you like. I have my own.”  
  
“Is that all you're gonna eat?” Ryuji asks, referring to Akira's choice of breakfast. He's got a single English muffin on one side of his plate, toasted, with nothing on it. There's fruit in a little bowl and one half of an egg-white omelet taking up the rest of the space.  
  
“I've got coffee too,” Akira says as he raises his paper cup. It's the saddest breakfast Ryuji's ever seen.  
  
“What's with all the health food?”  
  
“I guess I've always eaten this way.”  
  
“Like your whole life?!” Ryuji can't help the way his voice raises in surprise. “C'mon. Your mom and you used to make chocolate chip pancakes.”  
  
“Nope.”  
  
“Okay fine. Bacon and eggs?”  
  
“My parents are both vegetarians. So no bacon in my house.”  
  
“For real?!” Ryuji exclaims, pouring syrup over his waffle. He rarely gets to enjoy an oversized American style breakfast. He intends to eat every last bite.  
  
“For real,” Akira concurs, shutting the lid of his laptop. “So will it be skiing or snowboarding for today?”  
  
Ryuji stops mid-bite, his eyebrows raising, “Huh?”  
  
“This is a ski resort. Kawakami didn't mention?”  
  
“Er, I'm sure she did in the papers she gave me. I just, y'know, haven't read them yet.”  
  
“Have you ever been before?”  
  
“Skiing? Nah. I mean, I grew up with snow, but we didn't have mountains big enough for anythin' like that. You?”  
  
“Yes, with my parents. We used to come to resorts like this every winter.”  
  
“Ahhh, rich boy. Right?” Ryuji keeps the disdain out of his voice as much as he can.  
  
“We're comfortable,” is Akira's reply and somehow that's worse than if he had said 'yes'.  
  
“So you can show me the ropes.”  
  
Akira scowls from behind his coffee, “I'm not a very patient teacher.”  
  
“C'mon. Everyone at the office is always talkin' about how helpful you are.”  
  
“Helping with something at work is a far cry from teaching you to ski.”  
  
“Hey,” Ryuji mumbles around a bite of waffle. “You say that like you think I'm gonna be bad at it.”  
  
“Most people are.”  
  
“Well yeah! Everyone sucks at somethin' they've never tried before.”  
  
“I guess I can sign you up for some lessons,” Akira reopens his laptop as if he's seriously considering it.  
  
“No way,” Ryuji protests. He boldly reaches across the table to shut the computer's lid. Akira's eyes flick up towards his. They're the color of silver fire and for a moment, Ryuji is struck still by them. He forces himself to recover, sitting back in his seat. “Resorts like this are supposed to be real romantic. Since we got a honeymoon suite, we should approach the assignment from that angle. Nothin' sells hotel rooms like romance, 'least that's what Ann says.”  
  
“That's a fair point,” Akira agrees, much to Ryuji's surprise. “Kawakami didn't give me instructions for how she wanted this handled. I guess there wouldn't be any harm in approaching it that way.”  
  
“Exactly. So you can't ditch me with some weirdo ski instructor. Besides, I can't take photos if I'm busy doin' something else.”  
  
“Photos. Of course. I had forgotten.”  
  
Ryuji grins at his own ingenuity. He hadn't expected Akira to so quickly align with his plan. Which, speaking of, what exactly is his plan?  
  
“We should act as much like a couple as we can,” Akira declares and Ryuji almost opens his mouth to agree.  
  
“Whoa, wait, what?” Ryuji drops his fork. It hits the side of his plate with a loud clang before bouncing off and onto the floor. He stoops down to get it and when he comes back up, Akira is grinning at him.  
  
“Is there a problem?”  
  
“Hell yeah, there is! I said we should run this assignment like a romantic getaway, not that we should play at havin' one!”  
  
“It's a bit of role-playing. Everyone in the business does it from time to time.”  
  
“I ain't, y'know, that way. I don't think,” Ryuji says in a low tone, eyeing Akira suspiciously. “Are you?”  
  
“It doesn't matter,” Akira assures him. It does nothing to calm Ryuji's tense nerves. “The staff here isn't going to know any different. It would be easy to act like a couple.”  
  
“No way, man.”  
  
“It's role-playing for work. We're not actually going to be a couple. You understand that part, right?”  
  
“I got it,” Ryuji growls, running a hand back through his hair. “I ain't gonna like, kiss you or anything.”  
  
“Obviously we wouldn't do that.”  
  
“Uh, yeah, obviously.”  
  
Akira is all too understanding as he says, “You have reservations.”  
  
“This is kinda weird, innit it?”  
  
“Not really. It's like I said, everyone in this business does it.”  
  
“Even you?”  
  
“Even me,” Akira confirms. “What if we make a short list of rules?”  
  
“Rules? Okay, like what?”  
  
“Rule Number One: No kissing.”  
  
Ryuji relaxes. It's a good first rule. “I gotcha. Okay, Rule Number Two: ...uh... No...”  
  
“If we're going to pretend to be a couple, we might end up holding hands at some point. Where are you at with that?” Akira asks, his voice neutral. “I'm fine with it.”  
  
“I guess it's okay. As long as we don't do it a lot.”  
  
“Rule Number Two: Hand holding is allowed, but only for brief intervals.”  
  
“Rule Three: No one at the office finds out about this.”  
  
“That's a good one,” Akira agrees. “How we handle this assignment is our business.”  
  
“I mean it, man,” Ryuji warns. “When this trip is over, we never speak of it again. It never happened.”  
  
“What never happened?” Akira grins and leans across the table, batting his obnoxiously long eyelashes. Ryuji rolls his eyes, but he can tell his face is burning. “Rule Four: I get to keep the bed.”  
  
“How the hell is that a rule?” Ryuji wonders, snorting in amusement. “Fine. I don't care. Keep the bed. The couch sleeps pretty good.”  
  
“What else, Mr. Sakamoto?”  
  
“Uh, yeah. Rule Five: Don't call me that ever again. Just Ryuji is fine.”  
  
“Alright 'Just Ryuji'. You can call me Akira.”  
  
“I swear to god man-” His exasperation makes Akira laugh. Ryuji tries not to dwell on how much he likes the sound. “Rule Six: No hands below the belt. If ya get what I mean.”  
  
“Agreed. Anything else?”  
  
“I mean, I think that mostly covers it.”  
  
“Wait, I've got one more. It might be the most important one,” Akira says in a low tone. He's looking at Ryuji with a serious expression. “Rule Number Seven: Try not to fall for me.”  
  
Ryuji is horrified. “That's the stupidest effin' rule!"  
  
“I've been told I'm pretty charming.”  
  
“Go to hell,” Ryuji snaps, harsher than he means to. Akira is undeterred. In fact, he seems to be grinning even wider. “Rule Eight: YOU don't fall for ME.”  
  
“Unlikely, but I guess I'll allow it,” Akira rocks back in his chair, balancing it on two of its four legs. Ryuji hopes he tips it over and falls. “If any problems crop up, we can always add more rules as we go. We have the groundwork laid.”  
  
“There ain't gonna be any problems.”  
  
“I'm just putting it out there.”  
  
The conversation falls to the side, as Akira returns to his work and Ryuji to his breakfast.  
  
 _Don't fall for you? Like that'll ever happen._  
  
* * *  
  
Before Ryuji can have his first snowboarding lesson, he needs to be fitted for boots and a snowboard. They map out a shop that's within walking distance of their hotel and set out.  
  
It's not far to the elevator, a brisk walk down the hallway. Halfway there Ryuji finds himself feeling breathless. He's panting like he's run a marathon, his lungs struggling to intake enough air. Akira is looking at him, with only the mildest level of concern.  
  
“I swear I'm not that unfit,” Ryuji protests. The doors open up and they step inside.  
  
“Maybe some of your breakfast got caught in an artery,” Akira muses, sending a jolt of alarm through Ryuji.  
  
“That... Can't actually happen. Right?”  
  
“Anything is possible.”  
  
“C'mon man,” Ryuji says around a wheeze. “I work out, y'know.”  
  
Akira's eyes flicker toward him, “I noticed.”  
  
“For real?”  
  
“For real.”  
  
Before they can say anything else, the elevator doors slide open. An entire family is waiting outside, and they don't give Ryuji and Akira a chance to exit before crowding in. It's a fight to get around skis and poles.  
  
“Jeeze! They couldn't'a waited for us to get out first?!” Ryuji hisses, finally freeing himself from the lift.  
  
“I guess not,” Akira's voice is breathless as he replies. The sound catches Ryuji's attention. He's doing a good job of hiding it, but Akira is as out of breath as Ryuji is.  
  
Ryuji leers at him, “What was that about breakfast catching in my arteries?”  
  
“My weak attempt to get you to eat better.”  
  
“Yeah, well, it ain't very convincin'.”  
  
“It's the altitude,” Akira says, and for a moment Ryuji thinks he's making up another excuse. “No, really, the higher up the mountain you go, the thinner the air.”  
  
“You're such a dick,” but Ryuji is laughing. He never would have guessed that Akira was such a trickster. Though on that note, Ryuji is learning a lot of things about him that he never expected. He tries not to dwell on that thought but it's already stuck inside his head.  
  
Moose's Mountain Supply is a fair-sized store, filled to the absolute brim with all kinds of gear. There's an entire half of the store dedicated to skis and snowboards. The rest is a hodgepodge, ice skates, jackets, snowshoes, the store seems to have everything.  
  
“Do you know what to look for?” Akira wonders as they step deeper into the store.  
  
“More or less. My hometown gets a lot of snow in the winter,” Ryuji explains, moving towards the racks.  
  
“I'm going to talk to someone about renting boards. Take your time and get whatever you need.”  
  
“Got it.”  
  
Ryuji browses for a while. The store has a lot of different styles, from heavy to light and everything in-between. He settles on a pair of dark gray snow pants and black thermals to go under his clothes. Then, thinking better of it, he also picks up a cap and some heavy gloves.  
  
When Akira rejoins him, the two of them spend a little more time shopping. They banter back and forth, making fun of each other's style choices as they pick out some odds and ends. Winter clothes aren't exactly flattering and Akira seems to have a knack for finding the worst ones. Twice he threatens to get a neon pink puffy jacket and Ryuji has to beg him to put it back. He's still eyeing it as they move towards the check stand to pay.  
  
“C'mon, man. I'm not gonna let you get that, so stop starin' at it,” Ryuji jovially elbows Akira in the side and the two of them snicker. It catches Ryuji off guard. They're getting along better than he thought they would.  
  
“Did you get goggles?” Akira wonders, staring at a small display of them. He picks up a pair and holds them in front of Ryuji's face, smirking. “You don't want the snow to burn your eyes out.”  
  
“I know, I know,” Ryuji pushes the offending item away. “This isn't my first time being around snow. I've got sunglasses.”  
  
“Good ones?”  
  
“Yeah, they're good,” Ryuji assures him. “When I was like, ten or somethin', I went out sledding with some friends. Didn't know the snow could reflect the sun up into your eyes. Burned 'em up pretty bad. I had to take like, three or four days off of school to rest 'em.”  
  
“Ouch,” Akira says sympathetically. “Though I still think you'd look better with these goggles-”  
  
“No way man. You get them if you like 'em so much!”  
  
Akira laughs and moves on to pay. Ryuji waits off to the side, pondering the strange warmth building up inside his chest. Maybe it's heartburn, a reaction to the heavy breakfast he had. Yes, that has to be it.  
  
“It seems like it was expensive,” Ryuji comments as they lug everything towards the door. He's not as familiar with American money as Akira is, but he does know numbers. He saw a lot of them at the bottom of the receipt.  
  
“We have a company credit card for a reason,” Akira assures him.  
  
“I know, but don't you have a budget?”  
  
“A budget? No, Kawakami doesn't give me one.”  
  
“At all?!” Ryuji exclaims. He supposes it makes sense, Akira gets away with things that no one else does. “I always get stuck with tiny as hell budgets and if I go over, it comes out of my paycheck.”  
  
Akira thinks for a moment, then says, “Resorts like this cost a lot of money.”  
  
“I get that, but... No budget?”  
  
“I guess she trusts me to know what is necessary and what isn't. I spend whatever I need to,” Akira doesn't say it any particular way, but Ryuji still can't help taking offense. It's made worse when he goes on to say, “You shoot photography for smaller projects. You shouldn't need a large budget for that.”  
  
“Yeah, but we shouldn't be scraping the bottom of the barrel either!” Ryuji protests. “Last time, she gave Mishima 'n me crap for charging extra to the account because we had to stop for gas and lunch.”  
  
“Sounds like you didn't run the numbers right. You should always leave yourself extra for unexpected expenses.”  
  
“How the hell is travel and meals an unexpected expense?!” Ryuji can feel his anger mounting. “We _did_ budget. Mishima spent a long ass time adding it all up and no matter what we did, it came up short.”  
  
“Then you should have brought it to Kawakami's attention,”  
  
“We did.”  
  
“That's the nature of small projects. They don't bring as much revenue for the company. You have to work with what you have or be willing to throw some of your own money in to get the results you want.”  
  
“What?!” Ryuji has to stop walking, infuriated by Akira's suggestion. “You're sayin' I should be willin' to spend MY own money to get results for the company? When they don't want to give us a big enough budget to do what they ask us to do? No effin' way!”  
  
“It's something you have to do if you want to get ahead,” Akira explains in a level tone. “I'm not saying it's right, or fair, but it's the way things are. When I started out in the company, I had to invest a lot of my own money. It was the only way to meet high-level expectations.”  
  
“Of course you have no problem with it. You're from a rich family!”  
  
All at once, Akira's entire demeanor changes and Ryuji knows he's struck a nerve.

Akira turns on Ryuji, his eyes flashing dangerously as he snarls, “Don't talk like you know anything about me.”  
  
“I'm right though. You are,” Ryuji challenges, standing his ground. They stare at one another, daring the other to make the next move. It's Akira who cracks.  
  
“Yes, you're right,” he relents, his voice so soft that Ryuji hardly hears it. He takes a full step back to place some distance between them and breathes out a solemn sigh. “I'm sorry. Let's drop the subject. This isn't professional.”  
  
Akira trains his eyes towards the ground and for a moment, he stands there looking lost.  
  
“It's okay, man,” Ryuji murmurs. When his words don't pull Akira out of his daze, he reaches over to pat the other man's shoulder. “I'm sorry too. I shouldn't'a gotten so angry. It's not your fault or anythin'.”  
  
Akira glances at him, nods stiffly, and then steps away. They walk the rest of the way back to the hotel in silence.  
  
* * *  
  
 **Akira**  
  
Akira is not one for shame. He does what he likes, when he likes, and doesn't spend a lot of time sweating the details. But right now he's overwhelmed by feelings of regret. Holed up in the hotel bathroom, he's supposed to be changing so that he and Ryuji can spend their first day on the slopes. Instead, he's standing in front of the mirror, staring into his own eyes. He's trying to find all the cracks in his composure. They'll need to be mended before he can face Ryuji again.  
  
 _It's okay._  
  
 _He doesn't know._  
  
 _You don't have to talk about it._  
  
Akira inhales slowly, holding the breath deep inside his chest before exhaling.  
  
 _Everything will be fine._  
  
Now that he's shaken himself out of his daze, it's time to get to work. He's here at the ski resort for one reason and one reason only, to get Kawakami the results she wants. If he can broker this deal with the resort, it will be smooth sailing for Metaverse, at least going into the new year. Good results always yield good opportunities for the company. He knows that better than most, having spent the last six years of his life dedicated to raising Metaverse' bottom line. He's a top employee for a reason and that's exactly where he intends to stay. There's nowhere else he could be but at the top.  
  
It's what makes his current assignment so frustrating. His regular team knows how he works and knows what he expects of them. Ryuji has never participated in a huge resort project before and it shows. Akira desperately wants to do a good job so that he can get the results he's used to getting. He's not sure if he can rely on Ryuji to meet those same standards.  
  
Though that's hardly the only issue. More than their professional strifes, Akira is struggling with his own emotions. He's had a budding crush on Ryuji for almost a full year. Being alone with him is certainly adding to his long list of challenges.  
  
“We're here for work, not a date,” Akira tells his reflection sternly. Despite his own words, he can't help double-checking his appearance. Everything is in order, except... He spots his bare hands in the mirror. Gloves! Of course! He had forgotten to pick up a pair at the supply store.  
  
They could always stop back by to get some, but he's not keen on that idea. He doesn't want to return to the scene of his and Ryuji's earlier argument. Digging through the layers of his suitcase, he comes up with a pair of knit gloves. They're thin, but as long as he keeps them from getting wet, they should serve him well enough.  
  
“Are you ready?” Akira calls to Ryuji as he emerges from the bedroom. The blond is sitting in a heap on the floor, his face flushed and lips turned down in a scowl. He's shirtless, dressed in only his snow pants and the snowboard boots. Akira swallows thickly and says, “I guess not.”  
  
“You took so damn long, I got hot,” Ryuji informs him, though it's with a playful tone. Akira's relieved to see that they're both making strides to move past their fight.  
  
“Sorry, being this beautiful takes time.”  
  
“Uh-huh, right,” Ryuji rolls his eyes, grabs hold of his discarded shirt, and stands. While he's pulling it on, Akira gets a lovely view of his muscles. Ryuji had said that he works out, and Ann had once made mention of him being an ex-athlete. Both of those things are very, very bad for Akira, who's trying to keep things as professional as he can. It's not an easy job. He's flirty by nature and his attraction to Ryuji is overwhelming.  
  
“I'm doomed,” Akira murmurs, catching Ryuji's eye. Thankfully he doesn't ask. “So are you wearing your long underwear?”  
  
“My what?” Ryuji's face goes slack with shock and misunderstanding. “I just got regular boxers on under everything. Is that weird or somethin'?”  
  
Oh no. He's cute and very, very stupid.  
  
“Long johns,” Akira suggests instead. He's mostly teasing Ryuji, trying to get a rise out of him.  
  
“They're called thermals!” Ryuji shoots back, his face flushing. He scrubs a hand down his face in exasperation. “Where the hell do you come up with this stuff?”  
  
“It's a pretty common name.”  
  
“I have never heard them called that. Why'do'ya wanna know anyways?”  
  
“Just making sure you'll be warm enough,” Akira says airily, moving towards the door.  
  
“You're too much, man,” Ryuji sighs, following behind him.  
  
They gather their boards and head back down towards the lobby. Snowboard boots are clunky to walk in and it sounds like the two of them are stomping rather than walking. Ryuji is amused by this, and he spends the trek to the shuttle stop moving his legs in exaggeratedly large steps.  
  
They take the bus ten minutes up the hill, where the actual 'ski' part of the resort is. The lifts come into view, large swinging seats that hang from heavy metal cables. Akira fell from one as a young child and still suffers a bit of height fright from it. Since Ryuji is new to boarding, it's not likely they'll be taking one of the big ones up the mountain. Still, it makes him tense up just to see them.  
  
“These are so cool by the way,” Ryuji says offhand, referring to their snowboards. His is bright yellow on the bottom, with a design of a skeleton pirate on the top. “I've got this badass pirate and you've got-”  
  
“It's a thief,” Akira explains. His board is a little more abstract. The design on his is of a masked figure. He's wearing a top hat and a bright red suit jacket. At the tail end of the board, written in stylish English font is the word 'Arsene'. Akira points to the word to explain, “In English, this says Arsene. It's the name of a gentleman thief from a- I believe it was French- novel.”  
  
“I forgot you were one of those bookish kinds of guys.”  
  
“What makes you say that?”  
  
Ryuji shrugs, “You had a lot of books back at your house. You wouldn't keep 'em if you hadn't read them. I don't think, anyway.”  
  
“Fair point and you're right of course.”  
  
“I read manga, mostly,” Ryuji says in a shy tone.  
  
“I do too, from time to time. Maybe we can loan each other our favorites,” Akira suggests offhand. He's not expecting Ryuji's whole face to light up in excitement.  
  
“For real?! That would be cool!”  
  
Akira can't help smiling. Ryuji is... At times a little childish. Or childlike is more accurate. It's endearing and somehow irresistible.  
  
When they reach their stop, the two of them pile off the bus with the other passengers. Outside the air is crisp and fresh, a respite from the hot heat of the shuttle.  
  
Akira gestures for the two of them to head towards the entrance. They'll need to buy a lift pass before they're allowed to go up the mountain. He takes care of it at a kiosk, while Ryuji stands nearby, looking around with a wondrous expression on his face. He digs through his backpack to pull out his camera, snapping a few photos.  
  
“This is way better than I was expecting,” Ryuji admits when Akira approaches with their passes. “It should be easy to get a bunch of good photos.”  
  
“Take your sunglasses off for a second,” Akira suggests. Ryuji looks at him skeptically before slipping his shades back over his head. Suddenly he's smiling again.  
  
“Good call, man. I didn't realize how bad the lenses were distorting the colors. Lemme get a few more shots, and then we can go.”  
  
“Take your time,” Akira encourages, as he's not in any real rush. He forces his attention away from Ryuji. He has to find a way to reign himself in.  
  
Akira hears a shutter snap and turns to see Ryuji taking a photo of him. His eyebrows raise in a silent question.  
  
“D-Don't worry. I was takin' a photo of the scenery. We can always photoshop you out.” Ryuji is a horrible liar. It's probably fine though.  
  
“Let's get you started on your first lesson,” Akira suggests. Ryuji works to store his camera away in his backpack. “You got your helmet?”  
  
“I got it,” Ryuji confirms, unclipping it from one of his pack straps. He takes his sunglasses off of his head to put the helmet on and then slides them back into place, grinning widely. “I bet I look so cool.”  
  
“You look very official,” Akira confirms. “Here, hold my glasses for me while I put mine on.”  
  
“These look like your normal glasses, but with dark lenses.”  
  
“That's because they _are_ my normal glasses.”  
  
“For real? So the lenses change?”  
  
“Yeah. I'm pretty blind without them so it's easier than having two pairs.”  
  
“They look nice on you,” Ryuji compliments as he passes them back. “Er, I mean, some people look better with glasses than others.”  
  
“I wear contacts sometimes,” Akira slips the frames back onto his face and the world to eases back into focus. “But they don't adjust to the light.”  
  
“That would be cool if they did.”  
  
“Maybe someday.”  
  
“Alright,” Ryuji's voice vibrates with energy. “Let's go. What hill are we gonna go up first? I know I've never been before, but I'm a learn while doin' kind of guy.”  
  
“The bunny hill,” Akira tells him, checking a nearby map on a signboard. “It's a short walk from here-”  
  
“The bunny hill?! No way!”  
  
“You have to start with the basics.”  
  
“I don't need to start on the bunny hill,” Ryuji retorts, crossing his arms over his chest. He looks like a child on the edge of throwing a fit.  
  
“Have you forgotten our pact?” Akira leers. “What could be more couple-y than me teaching you to snowboard on the bunny hill.”  
  
“You mean nothin' more embarrasin.”  
  
“Trust is the foundation of any good relationship. Romantic or not. Can you trust me not to embarrass you?”  
  
Ryuji stares at him, his eyes dancing with mischief and his lips quirked up at the corners. “...Nope.”  
  
Despite his response, Ryuji begins walking towards the bunny hill.  
  
When they arrive, Ryuji, despite his earlier protests, is beaming with excitement. It crackles through the air like electricity, buzzing through Akira as well. He's surprised at how well they get along, at least when they're talking about things other than work.  
  
Akira suggests, “Why don't you take some photos first?”  
  
“Photos of what? Little kids fallin' on their asses?” Ryuji shakes his head. “No way man. Let's jump right into learnin' how to snowboard instead. I'll let you know when it's time for me to stop and get some pictures.”  
  
“What have you got against little kids?”  
  
“Huh? Nothin', I jus-” Ryuji waves his hands in front of himself, as if he's catching his thoughts out of the air. He stammers a bit, trying to put in all in order.  
  
“Hey, relax,” Akira soothes. “I'm joking with you.”  
  
“I'm just kinda lookin' forward to learnin' is all.”  
  
Ryuji's words give both of them pause.  
  
“Come on,” Akira says, smiling softly. “I'll teach you.”  
  
“Thanks, man,” Ryuji rubs his hand over the back of his head and grins. “So what's first?”  
  
“Board first,” Akira sets his own on the ground and begins pointing at several key points on it. “This is the nose of the board, the part that you face forward. The back is the tail. You strap your boots into these, they're called bindings. With me so far?”  
  
When Akira glances up, Ryuji is already sitting in the snow, strapping in.  
  
“I got all that,” Ryuji says dismissively. He ratchets the binding's tight over his boots and then looks up at Akira for more guidance. “Help me up.”  
  
“If I do that, you'll shoot down the hill,” Akira replies dryly. “You're basically strapped into a sled.”  
  
“Innit that the point?”  
  
Akira points 'downhill', referring to a large padded wall that is set at the bottom of the bunny hill. “Do you want to run into that?”  
  
“I-... No.”  
  
“Then listen to me,” Akira kneels down beside Ryuji, unstrapping his left foot. “Leave the binding on this one off. You'll need it to get around. Stay seated, I'll show you.”  
  
“Sure thing,” Ryuji watches, this time with more attentiveness. Akira sets his board down and straps in, leaving one leg loose. He uses his loose leg to push himself forward a few paces, then turns on it to move back towards Ryuji. “Kinda like a skateboard, I get it.”  
  
“Exactly,” Akira concurs, reaching out his hands towards Ryuji to help him up. The blond's eyes flick towards his thin knit gloves.  
  
“Aren't those kinda cold for being out in the snow like this?”  
  
“They're fine,” he assures him. He's not about to admit why he didn't go to buy a heavier pair. “Stand up.”  
  
Ryuji takes hold of his hands and allows Akira to pull him to his feet. He takes a moment to get his balance, still holding on.  
  
“Where to?” Ryuji wonders, glancing around. “We don't have to walk up the hill like this, right?”  
  
“No, we'll take the magic carpet,” Akira grins around the name. “I'll show you, come on.”  
  
The two of them push up the hill a bit, coming to stop at a long conveyer belt set into the snow.  
  
“Well shit, it really is a carpet,” Ryuji jokes, peering at it through narrowed eyes. “We just ride it up?”  
  
“Yes, we ride it up,” Akira steps forward to slide his board onto the gripped surface of the belt. Once it's grabbed hold of him, it begins pulling him up. He glances back at Ryuji, who meets the challenge with a surprising amount of vigor. “Place your free foot at the center of the board for balance. Easy, right?”  
  
“Too easy!”

“You might not be saying that when we get to the top.”  
  
“I'm gonna kick the bunny hills' ass,” Ryuji exclaims loudly. It earns him a look from nearby children and adults. At least the chance of any of them understanding Japanese is low. “What's with that look on your face?”  
  
“It's nothing,” Akira says as they reach the top. “We're going to get off on the left, okay? Follow me.”  
  
They dismount the carpet and move across a flat plane at the top of the hill. Akira finds a spot with few people around, giving them the privacy they need to conduct the lesson.  
  
“Before you go rushing down, let me explain some things,” Akira begins. He unhooks from his own board, sticking it down into the snow to keep it from going off without him. Akira kneels down and gestures for Ryuji to join him. “Go ahead and strap your other foot in.”  
  
“Like this?” Ryuji asks as he tightens the bindings. Akira checks the straps on both feet and then nods.  
  
“This is the leash,” He says offhand, indicating to a short nylon strap with a clip at the end. He secures it to one of the loops on Ryuji's right boot. “It will keep the board from running off if, for whatever reason, your boots come out of the bindings.”  
  
“Handy.”  
  
“Very handy,” Akira agrees as he stands. “I'm going to go over the basics, so listen closely.”  
  
He starts from the top, explaining how to position the board to go forward and how to turn. Twice he explains how to stop, making sure that the instructions are understood. Now that Akira has his focus Ryuji is proving to be an attentive listener.  
  
“I'm going to go down first, halfway, and you can come down to meet me,” Akira moves over to collect his board. “Take your time. You don't have to speed down.”  
  
“I gotcha,” Ryuji's eyes are locked on him, waiting to see an example of appropriate riding.  
  
The pressure is on. Akira hasn't been on the slopes in years. He prays that he doesn't embarrass himself somehow. Hopping to turn his board, he tips over the edge and starts down the hill. His body remembers better than his mind and it guides him safely to the halfway point.  
  
When he turns around to check for Ryuji, he's startled and annoyed to find that the blond has gone down after him. Ryuji is a little unsteady in his balance, but his fearlessness perhaps makes up for it. He carves out a large section of snow as he attempts to stop, ending up on his back.  
  
“You should have waited,” Akira grumbles testily. Ryuji's enthusiasm isn't so easily tempered.  
  
He lies on his back in the snow, laughing as he declares, “That was awesome!”  
  
“Bend your knees more next time,” Akira corrects, offering his hands to Ryuji to help him up. Ryuji bypasses them to sit up and stand on his own, almost falling forward in the process. He digs in with the back edge of his board to keep from going on without Akira's permission. “Are you comfortable continuing?”  
  
“Hell yeah, I am!”  
  
“We'll go together then. Keep your eyes up, look where you want to go, and don't hit anybody.”  
  
“I got this,” Ryuji says, and then he's gone down the hill. Akira turns his board to follow, keeping a close eye on him. Ryuji does better than expected, he's quick to figure out how to turn and how to control his speed. He's fine until he reaches the bottom of the hill where he needs to stop. His enthusiasm for it is too much, and he ends up falling face forward into the snow.  
  
“Are you okay?!” Akira demands as he pulls up next to him. Ryuji has to roll over onto his back before he can answer. His sunglasses hang halfway off his face and there are flakes of snow stuck to his skin. He glances up at Akira and smiles.  
  
“I'm good, don't worry,” Ryuji dusts himself off and unstraps his left leg to assist him in standing. “I wanna go again.”  
  
“Instead of going down the hill, we should practice how to stop.”  
  
“Nah man, I got it. I told ya before, I learn by doing. Next time I need to shift my weight more. It took me a while to figure out that you control more with your back leg than your front.”  
  
“You figured that out by going down the hill one time?” Akira asks, his voice full of surprise.  
  
“Not as dumb as I look, am I?” Ryuji shoots back, looking far too proud of himself. “Though I think you should take my bag. My camera is in a protective case, but I don't wanna chance it.”  
  
“Of course,” Akira agrees, glancing around. The sun is high in the sky, creating a beautiful sunny day. “We couldn't ask for better weather.”  
  
“I was just thinkin' that,” Ryuji agrees, swinging his backpack down off his shoulders. He fishes through it, coming up with two bottles of water. “Here, drink somethin'. It's easy to dehydrate in cold weather. Er, which I'm sure you knew-”  
  
“Thank you,” Akira says softly, taking hold of one of the bottles. “I did know, but it's nice of you to remind me.”  
  
“Oh. Uh. Sure thing, man.”  
  
Ryuji turns away, brows furrowed behind the lenses of his sunglasses. Akira watches him, trying to figure out what exactly has him flustered this time.  
  
 _Is it me?_ Akira wonders, uncapping the lid on his water bottle. When he goes to drink, Ryuji's eyes flick over towards him.  
  
“Y'sure your hands aren't cold?” he asks. “We can like, swap gloves or somethin' if you are.”  
  
“I'm alright,” Akira assures him, hiding his smile behind a drink of water. “It's sweet of you to offer, though.”  
  
“Sweet,” Ryuji says the word in a stammer, averting his whole body away. It's cute and Akira has to take a few moments to breathe deep and calm his excited heartbeat. He hadn't expected Ryuji to have such a gentle personality.  
  
When they finally gear up to go again, they swap backpacks and Akira is surprised by the weight of Ryuji's.  
  
“What do you have in this thing?” Akira asks. “Not that I can't handle it, I'm just wondering.”  
  
“Y'know, camera, tripod, snacks... That kind of stuff,” Ryuji is already ambling back towards the magic carpet. “Probably other things too. I don't keep an inventory or anything. I just toss everything in there.”  
  
“...And do you ever clean it out?”  
  
“Sometimes,” Ryuji shrugs his shoulders. “I mean, there's nothin' gross in there if that's what you're asking. Junk? Yeah, maybe, but that's all.”  
  
“I didn't mean- sorry,” Akira shakes his head and adjust the straps on his shoulders. Ryuji smiles mirthfully at him and shrugs.  
  
“After lunch, if you feel comfortable with it, we can try a real run,“ Akira suggests. He watches eagerly for the moment that Ryuji's face will light up. As predicted, he turns his head around with a big smile.  
  
“Hell yeah I do!” he exclaims, reaching a hand out to grab one of Akira's shoulders. He shakes him back and forth a few times before breaking away to move towards the belt lift.  
  
Akira catches himself smiling as he follows Ryuji back towards the magic carpet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akira is so weak for Ryuji. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	3. Wine and Dine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wine drunk on feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! Things are rolling along. Hopefully, if I'm not a weakling, I'll be able to have this fic finished before Christmas. I am a terrible procrastinator, so maybe not. I had to do a small amount of research on wines for this chapter. I'm not really a drinker, so my knowledge of such things is very small. Akira definitely seems like the type who would know a lot about them. Especially in this AU. lol 
> 
> Anyways, on to reading! Kudo or comment if you like! <3

**Ryuji**

Their last run is easily their best. Ryuji manages to stop without landing on his face or his ass. It's a small victory and it sets a good tone for their lunch. They order sandwiches and hot drinks from a café near the base of the mountain. The food is amazing, but the atmosphere is even better. They joke and laugh about their morning on the bunny hill.  
  
Ryuji is finding it harder and harder to dislike Akira.  
  
“Ann was right,” He says offhand.  
  
“About what?” Akira asks.  
  
 _About you being a nice guy._ Ryuji thinks but doesn't say.  
  
“About romance sellin' hotel rooms. If we were really a couple, today would be kinda… Perfect.” Ryuji explains, embarrassed by his own words.  
  
“Aren't we?” Akira asks, smiling devilishly. “A couple.”  
  
“Er… Right, I guess we are.”  
  
“So are you saying that today was perfect?”  
  
The waiter appears with their check. It's a nice momentary distraction that prevents Ryuji from having to answer. He hopes that Akira has forgotten about it as they make their way back outside, but no such luck. The moment they have their boards in hand, Akira corners him.  
  
“So what's your answer then?” Akira asks, no, more like demands. Ryuji ducks behind the safety of his snowboard, hoping to avoid having to look him in the eyes when he answers.  
  
“I dunno,” Ryuji begins lamely. “I- If you were a girl I was datin', today would be somethin' I might consider 'perfect'.”  
  
“I'm the man you're dating, albeit fake dating. Does me being a man change your feelings that much?”  
  
Ryuji considers the question for a moment. If he's being fully honest, no, it doesn't. He had fun either way, but that's less about man vs woman and more about Akira himself.  
  
“No, it doesn't,” Ryuji is forced to admit. “Can we drop it?”  
  
“Sure,” Akira lifts his snowboard and starts walking. Ryuji adjusts his hold on his own board and goes after him.  
  
It's a short ten-minute walk to get to the lift. They scan their passes and then strap into their boards. It's a short wait for a chair.  
  
“After these people, we're going to move up with our boards to stand at that yellow loading line. The chairs come around somewhat quick,” Akira explains, “and they come from behind. It can catch you off guard. Watch these skiers.”  
  
Ryuji watches as the chair swings around to pick up the pair of skiers. They sit quickly as the chair comes up behind them, lifting them up and away. Akira and Ryuji are next, so they move up to the line. Ryuji glances over his shoulder in anticipation of the chair. It swings around the end of the lift. He has to scramble to get completely seated, but then they're on their way.  
  
“Well that was weird,” He mumbles, one hand firmly clasped around a handhold.  
  
“It does feel weird the first time,” Akira reaches out to pull the lap bar down over their legs. They sit in silence for a while, enjoying the passing scenery. They're up high enough that they sail by the tops of large dark-colored evergreen trees. Skiers and boarders alike whizz by below them. Ryuji looks at it all in amazement.  
  
“Here,” Akira says, offering over a small tube of sunscreen. “Your nose is looking a little red. Might be the cold, but you should still put some on just in case.”  
  
“Oh, um, thank you.” Ryuji slips his sunglasses down off of his face and the brightness shocks him. He blinks against the glare as he puts his shades and gloves into his pocket for safekeeping.  
  
“So what kind of plans did you have for Christmas?” Akira asks as he reaches over to get a dab of sunscreen for himself. He has to use one hand to hold back his bangs and the other to apply the cream to his face. Ryuji stares at him, distracted by how intensely silver Akira's eyes are in the sunlight.  
  
“Huh? Oh, I was gonna go back home to see my mom. I haven't seen her in a couple years. No time or money for it.”  
  
“I'm sorry,” Akira says softly as his eyebrows draw together at the center of his forehead. “You had to cancel those plans to be here.”  
  
“Nah, man, it ain't your fault. Work is work. My mom and I talked about it and she was cool with it. I might go out for New Years or somethin'. Besides, it was Kawakami that made the decision to send me, not you.”  
  
“To be honest, I hadn't even considered the fact that you had said you had plans.”  
  
“For real, it's okay,” Ryuji scrambles to change the subject, hoping to brighten Akira's mood. “What did you have planned for Christmas?”  
  
“Oh, I usually work,” Akira explains in a mild tone. “So when Kawakami offered me this job, I took it.”  
  
Whoops.  
  
“Y'didn't wanna spend time with your family?”  
  
“Not really.”  
  
“Oh, I see.”  
  
The two fall into another bout of silence, though this one is permeated by discomfort. Ryuji busies himself with applying sunscreen until his whole face is covered. He's about to slip his sunglasses back on when one of Akira's hands appears in his vision.  
  
“Sorry, hold still,” Akira turns Ryuji's face towards him. He smooths his thumbs over the top of Ryuji's cheeks. “There was a bit of globby sunscreen there.”  
  
“Your hands are effin' cold,” Ryuji complains. He sets his sunglasses to the side in favor of wrapping his hands around Akira's. They've gone white from the chill. “Dude, you're gonna get frostbite.”  
  
“I'm okay.”  
  
“We should'a stopped to get you some better ones.”  
  
“I'm okay,” Akira insists again, though his words come out softer than before. “You don't have to fuss over me.”  
  
“Well as your fake boyfriend, I do,” Ryuji huffs. He's embarrassed by his own words, but they make Akira smile and that's enough. Ryuji continues to massage his frigid fingers until their color starts to return. “Wear my gloves.”  
  
“I'll stick with mine. They're not waterproof and you have a habit of ending up with your hands in the snow.”  
  
“I can take it.”  
  
“Nope, it's not happening.”  
  
“C'mon Akira, switch with me,” Ryuji grumbles. “Please?”  
  
Akira studies him for a moment, his expression curious, “That's the first time you've said my name.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
Akira pulls his hands away during the brief distraction. He tucks them away in his jacket pockets. Ryuji's own hands feel empty without them.  
  
“Just now,” Akira says. “That's the first time you've called me by my name since we left Tokyo.”  
  
“What? No way, I'm sure I've said it tons,” Ryuji wracks his brain, trying to remember a specific incident. “Okay, so maybe you're right. What about it?”  
  
Akira smiles as he says, “It's nice”  
  
“Do... People not normally do that?”  
  
“Some people do, it's different when you say it.”  
  
“Different how?” Ryuji asks, but there's no time to answer. The lift is coming to its end and Ryuji has no idea how to get off. “Okay, what do I do?”  
  
“Getting off the lift is harder than getting on,” Akira says in the tone he uses for 'business'. Ryuji scrambles to put his gloves and sunglasses back on. “Be prepared to stand up. Your loose leg goes to the center of your board between the bindings. You'll have to keep your balance and let the chair push you. There's a tiny slope after that you'll have to glide down.”  
  
“I'm gonna fall on my ass,” Ryuji groans, already able to picture the outcome.  
  
“Hold my hand then. I'll do my best to keep you upright.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Hold my hand, Ryuji.” Akira slips his knit gloves back on and offers his right hand over to Ryuji, who takes hold of it. His heart skips inside his chest at the contact, but he doesn't have time to process the feeling further. They reach the end of the lift and Ryuji does his best to follow Akira's directions. The two of them stand up out of the chair and slide away from the lift. Ryuji's balance wobbles, but Akira's strong arm keeps him from falling. “See? Not so bad.”  
  
“I hate that,” Ryuji says when they come to a stop. “Is it always gonna be like that when we gotta get off the lift?”  
  
“Unfortunately, yes.”  
  
“I miss the magic carpet.”  
  
Akira chuckles in a low tone, immediately changing Ryuji's mind. He'd gladly get off a hundred chair lifts if it meant he could hear the warm sound of Akira's laughter.  
  
“Are you ready for your first real run?” Akira asks, squeezing Ryuji's hand before releasing it. “I'll be with you the whole way.”  
  
“I'm ready,” Ryuji replies, halfway distracted. He flexes his fingers, trying to remember the shape and feel of Akira's hand inside of his.  
  
 _This is bad,_ he has to admit to himself. He likes Akira more than he ever thought possible, more than should be logical. His mind is having a hard time accepting the changeover from deep-seated hatred to-... A crush? Is that what he's feeling? There's no way it can be that.  
  
“Are you alright?” Akira asks, elbowing Ryuji in the side to regain his attention. He smiles coyly. “You aren't scared are you?”  
  
“I'm not,” Ryuji croaks. He clears his throat and tries again, “Let's do this.”  
  
Akira looks at him skeptically but doesn't press the issue.  
  
* * *  
  
 **Akira  
  
** Ryuji talks about the snowboard run the entire way back to the hotel. He did well, despite a few stumbles, none of which seemed to dim down his enthusiasm. Akira is content to let him talk as much as he likes, for it seems that talking is something akin to breathing for Ryuji. At the very least, it keeps him entertained. Ryuji's account is full of exaggerated explanations and plenty of explicit words.  
  
“Maaaan, I can't wait to get back to the room to eat. I'm so hungry,” Ryuji is leading the way up the hill to their hotel. He's carrying both of their boards, a favor to Akira, who, in Ryuji's words, looks 'dead on your feet'. He isn't about to complain, he's still a little jet-lagged from their journey. “I wonder what kind of stuff we can get for dinner from room service.”  
  
“We could always go out for dinner,” Akira suggests, earning a sidelong glance from Ryuji. He has the boards up over his shoulders, so he has to do a half body turn for his expression to be seen. “I know we're both tired, but I don't want to eat hotel food again.”  
  
“I didn't think it was that bad.”  
  
“It wasn't, but after boarding all day, I want something substantial.”  
  
“Alright, where should we go?”  
  
“How about there?” Akira points to a restaurant that he spotted moments earlier. Or rather, a restaurant he spotted and then quickly did an internet search on. It's pricey, but the reviews are solid. “I think it's a steakhouse?”  
  
“Do you even eat steak?”  
  
“No, but I'm sure they'll have something I can eat.”  
  
“Well, okay. Should we go back and change first?”

“Definitely,” Akira takes the lead this time. His energy has renewed itself at the thought of the two of them having a fancy meal together. “Besides, it'll fall in line with us approaching this assignment like a couple. I still haven't had a chance to wine and dine you.”

  
“Wine and dine me, huh?” Ryuji snorts in amusement, shaking his head. “You're so weird.”  
  
They drop their gear off in the room and take turns showering and changing into fresh clothes. Ryuji, as it turns out, cleans up nicely when he wants to. He looks sharp, dressed in a maroon-colored button-up and well-fitting black slacks. Akira can't help staring, a gesture that doesn't go unnoticed.  
  
“What?” Ryuji wonders, his lips turning down into a scowl. “Do I look bad or somethin'?”  
  
“You look good,” Akira tells him sincerely. Ryuji's frown deepens, but his cheeks color.  
  
“Thanks, I guess. I never feel comfortable in formal wear.”  
  
“You look fine.”  
  
The two of them step towards the door at the same time, and then begin motioning for the other to go first.  
  
“Well this isn't getting us anywhere,” Akira jokes. Neither one of them seems intent on backing down. “We're both too polite for our own good. So let's go together.”  
  
“Together?” Ryuji wonders then hums in understanding when Akira offers a hand to him. “Y'mean let's hold hands.”  
  
“Only if it doesn't violate Rule Number Two.”  
  
“Jeeze, you memorized them?”  
  
“You didn't?”  
  
“I remember what they said, not the numbers,” Ryuji says. He's tentative as he reaches over to curl his palm around Akira's. The touch seems to startle them both and they flinch. “This is completely bonkers you know, two guys holdin' hands.”  
  
“It's less rare in America than it is back home.” Akira shrugs and leads the way out of the hotel room.  
  
Ryuji's hand is a little sweaty and twice he tries to pull it away. Akira holds fast, murmuring soft words of encouragement. The ride down in the elevator is silent, save for the noise of Ryuji's toe tapping against the floor. He's tense, and it's a sure bet that if anyone were to get on the elevator with them, he'd flutter away like a scared bird. Akira tries to remain relaxed, hoping that with a little more time Ryuji might settle down.  
  
Out of the blue, Ryuji asks, “It ain't weird to you?”  
  
“I don't think about it much. If I like someone, I hold their hand.”  
  
Ryuji's shoulders jump and Akira realizes he's said too much. He fumbles to recover.  
  
“What I mean is, it doesn't bother me to hold your hand. We're pretending to be a couple anyway.” He keeps his voice level, acting as nonchalant as he can. Hopefully, Ryuji didn't catch his slip.  
  
“You mean you like doing this kind of thing?”  
  
“Well, it would be wrong of me to lie and say no. We can stop.”  
  
Ryuji pauses, then sighs as he says, “No, it's fine. I'm not against it or anything. I just don't think I'm good at it.”  
  
“What?” Akira catches himself on the edge of a laugh. He never expected Ryuji to be concerned about something like that. “Of all the things you could worry about... There's no right or wrong way to hold someone's hand.”  
  
“I haven't done a lot of hand holdin', okay? And never with a guy.”  
  
“That's okay. You aren't doing anything wrong. Here, let me show you,” Akira lifts their twined hands up. “See how well our hands fit together? They fit the same as a man and woman's would.”  
  
“I never thought of it that way,” Ryuji says in a soft voice. “So, you really are, uh, gay then?”  
  
“Maybe. I've been with women too.”  
  
“Oh, I've heard of that.”  
  
“I don't strive to put a label on it,” Akira explains in a soft tone. The elevator opens and the two of them step out, moving side by side. “It's less about all that and more about liking someone for who they are as a person. That's what I'm attracted to more than anything.”  
  
“It seems simple when you put it that way.”  
  
“Why should it be anything else?”  
  
Ryuji doesn't seem to have a good answer but Akira doesn't press him for one. He does notice, that Ryuji grips his hand just a little tighter. They stay like that the entire walk down to the restaurant.  
  
Inside, Akira asks to be seated somewhere private. He makes a small mention of him and Ryuji's 'honeymoon' status. The hostess is more than happy to help, and she finds them a table at the back of the restaurant. It's situated under a pair of large arching windows, and outside of them is a beautiful view of the resort. The entire thing looks like a tabletop winter village, snow-topped roofs, and yellow street lamps. It's perfectly romantic, and exactly what Akira had, had in mind.  
  
“What did you ask?” Ryuji wonders as they take their seats. He picks up his menu and then scowls. “English, right.”  
  
“I can read it for you if you need me to,” Akira offers, then returns to answer Ryuji's question. “I told her we wanted a private table. We're on our honeymoon after all.”  
  
“You did not tell her that.”  
  
“I did.”  
  
“Damn,” Is the only thing Ryuji can come up with for a reply. He's blushing ear to ear, smiling in amazement of Akira's bold move.  
  
Akira thinks, not for the first time, that he's playing a dangerous game. He shouldn't be giving in to his heart's fantasies, but the atmosphere is too perfect and too right. He can't help himself.  
  
“We should order some wine,” Akira suggests. “Do you have any preferences?”  
  
“Er, red maybe?”  
  
“They have a California Cabernet Sauvignon we could try. Red wines usually go well with red meat.”  
  
“Um,” Ryuji flips through his menu, speaking as if he's halfway distracted. “Sure, that sounds fine.”  
  
 _He's got no idea what I'm talking about,_ Akira realizes with amusement.  
  
“If you give me some idea of your preferences, I could order food for you,” Akira suggests.  
  
“I like almost any kind of meat, so whatever is most affordable, I guess.”  
  
“Steak it is, then. I'll order you something decent.”  
  
“You don't gotta order me anything fancy,” Ryuji insists. Akira plans to firmly ignore him.  
  
“I'm not going overboard, but I am going to order you something good.”  
  
The waiter arrives before Ryuji can argue. Akira orders the wine, salmon for himself, and then a decent cut of steak for Ryuji.  
  
“I thought you didn't eat meat,” Ryuji points out.  
  
“I don't eat red meat,” Akira is quick to clarify. “I grew up in a vegetarian household, so making the switch wasn't really... Easy. I never got to where I could enjoy the taste or texture of red meat.”  
  
“How sad. You're missin' out.”  
  
“You can enjoy it for me, okay?”  
  
“Sure, I can do that.” Ryuji runs a hand back through his hair and smiles sheepishly. “This place is over-the-top fancy. I don't think I've ever eaten anywhere this nice before.”  
  
“Us Rich Boys have a sixth sense for places like this,” Akira says with a grin. Some of the light leaves Ryuji's eyes, and he nods cautiously. Akira remembers too late the fight they had earlier. “I'm sorry, that was in poor taste.”  
  
“I don't get you.”  
  
“Let me explain,” Akira takes a deep breath and averts his eyes away to stare out the window. “I said before that when I started in the company, I contributed a lot of my own money. I wanted to ensure that my projects would meet high expectations.”  
  
“I remember.”  
  
“At that time, I had recently moved out of my childhood home. I was living independently of my family's money. Anything I put into those projects was money I had earned for myself,” Akira sighs. “Yes, I grew up in a family that had a lot of money. I know what it's like to live that lifestyle, but it's no longer a part of who I am now. Everything I own, I own because I worked for it.”  
  
“Sorry,” Ryuji says in a low tone. His deep brown eyes are fixed on the table, head bent low in shame. “I had just always heard you came from a wealthy family, so I assumed that meant you had a lot of money.”  
  
“Don't apologize. I allow people to think that way because it's easier than correcting them.”  
  
“So are you and your parents, like, not close?”  
  
“Something like that,” Akira's shoulders instinctively tense. He quickly moves to change the subject. “You and your mom are though, right?”  
  
“Yeah, it was pretty much just her and me after my dad left. We get along really well.”  
  
“What's she like?”  
  
“Well, not like most moms. She's actually-... Well, she's a lot like me. Or I'm a lot like her. I think she used to be a yankee or something when she was in high school. She mellowed out a lot when she met my dad.”  
  
“...And are you close to your father?” Akira thinks he knows the answer, but he asks to be certain.  
  
“No. Not at all.”  
  
“Fair enough, I won't make you talk about it.”  
  
The wine arrives and the timing couldn't be better. The waiter pours them both a glass and then leaves the bottle at the center of the table.  
  
“It smells nice,” Akira compliments, lifting his glass up off the table. Ryuji does the same, looking terribly awkward.  
  
“What should we toast to?” Ryuji asks, and it's a thought that hadn't occurred to Akira.  
  
With a sly smile, he suggests, “To a long and happy relationship.”  
  
“I swear man, I will get up and leave-”  
  
“A relationship could be anything, Ryuji. Love, friendship, good coworkers.”  
  
“Fine, fine,” Ryuji thrusts his glass forward, nearly spilling wine over the edge of it. “To a long and happy relationship.”  
  
They clink glasses and then drink. Ryuji's entire face scrunches up in displeasure.  
  
“It's a little sour,” He complains.  
  
Akira can't help laughing, “Well yeah, it's wine.”  
  
“Y'know,” Ryuji sets his glass down on the table and begins to run an index finger around the rim of the glass. His expression has become serious. “Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't smile like that back at the office.”  
  
“I hadn't realized I was smiling any special way."  
  
“I guess what I really mean is that I've never seen you smile like you were honestly happy.”  
  
“Maybe it's the wine.”  
  
“See? That's the shit I hate about you,” Ryuji grumbles, dropping his hand down to the table to fuss over his silverware. “You put on this front and I can't figure out which parts of you are real and which parts are fake.”  
  
“You're not totally off,” Akira admits around another sip of wine. “I'm used to being whoever or whatever people want me to be.”  
  
“You don't have to do that,” Ryuji looks up, his eyes meeting Akira's across the table. “Listen, I was a jerk before. I judged you, thinkin' I knew everything I needed to know about you, but I was wrong. I don't want you to feel like you have to put up a front.”  
  
“Ryuji, I-”  
  
“You can be yourself with me. Okay? No matter who that person is.”  
  
“I know,” Akira murmurs. He reaches across the table to set his hand lightly over one of Ryuji's. Ryuji slowly rotates his hand up, so that their palms are touching and it causes Akira's heart skips a beat. “Or I'm starting to realize.”  
  
The moment is over quicker than it began. Ryuji pulls his hand back at the sight of the approaching waiter.  
  
Still, the evening isn't a total loss. Dinner is nothing short of delicious and the atmosphere remains light and warm. Ryuji, despite hating the wine, ends up slogging his way through three glasses. By the time they leave to head back to the hotel, he's a little wobbly on his own feet. Akira is all too happy to help him walk.  
  
“Sorry about this,” Ryuji sighs as they exit the restaurant. His face is deeply flushed and his eyes are glassy.  
  
“It's not a problem,” Akira says, securing an arm around Ryuji's waist to keep him steady. “You're kind of a lightweight, aren't you?”  
  
“Only cuz I don't drink a lot. Ann calls it low-” Ryuji pauses midsentence, thinking hard to parse his next set of words. “She calls it low alcohol tolerance.”  
  
“There's nothing wrong with that.”  
  
“S'just stupid, cuz like, my old man was a drunk. So you think I'd have the gene or somethin'. I'd probably be an embarrassment to him.”  
  
Akira stops walking, his body cold with shock. He turns his head to glance at Ryuji. He's wearing an impassive expression, but his eyes are dark. There's something deeper going on inside his head.  
  
“It doesn't matter what your father would think. It's not necessarily a bad thing to have a lower alcohol tolerance,” Akira tells him firmly. He spurns Ryuji on towards the hotel. “It means that you and I are going to be more mindful from now on, okay?”  
  
“Okay,” Ryuji whispers sullenly. He's silent for the rest of the walk back and Akira isn't sure if that's a good thing or not. As they ride the elevator back up to their floor, Ryuji rolls his head over to rest on Akira's shoulder. Unexpectedly he sighs, “You're probably right.”  
  
“I'm definitely right,” Akira encourages. “How's your mom with alcohol?”  
  
Ryuji chuckles softly and says, “She's a weakling.”  
  
“See? You must take after her.”  
  
“Yeah, I guess I do.”  
  
This conclusion seems to calm Ryuji and the tension he had been holding in his shoulders melts away.  
  
Back in the room, Ryuji seems to have sobered up enough to get himself ready for bed. Akira sits on the couch to wait, watching the snowfall as it piles up outside the windows.  
  
“Thanks for takin' me out to dinner,” Ryuji says as he emerges from the bathroom. He sits down and butts his shoulder playfully up against Akira's. “It was really good.”  
  
“You're welcome,” Akira stands up to make room enough for Ryuji to lay down. “Get some rest. Okay?”  
  
“You too, man. Don't stay up late tryin' to do a bunch of work.”  
  
“I won't.”  
  
“What's the plan for tomorrow?” Ryuji wonders as lays down.  
  
“In the morning I have to meet with the resort CEO. He and I have to go over some preliminary paperwork before we can discuss business.”  
  
“Sounds boring.”  
  
“It is,” Akira agrees. “You stay here and sleep in.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Ryuji frowns. “I don't mind goin' with you. I don't want you to have to do all the work on this project by yourself.”  
  
“You're welcome to stay here and use my laptop. You should probably get started on the review.”  
  
“Oh man, I forgot all about it. I guess that's fine.”  
  
“Good,” Akira reaches out to comb his fingers through Ryuji's hair but stops short. He drops his hand back down to his side where it hangs like a lead weight. “Goodnight.”  
  
“Get some sleep, I mean it,” Ryuji smiles in spite of the threat. “Goodnight.”  
  
Akira hesitates for a moment before going off alone to the bedroom. He shuts the door behind himself and leans back against it. His mind is spinning as it tries to process everything that's happened. His office crush is quickly becoming something more than that. He wonders, not for the first time if he's taking advantage of Ryuji's kindness.  
  
A deeper part of himself is certain that he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always make Akira so broody. I can't help it.


	4. Christmas Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of sad memories and mistletoe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The holidays, they crept up on me. I am so sorry this is late! Thank you to everyone who has read thus far. I hope this story continues to entertain and maybe it will be finished before New Years! (LMAO. Will it? Will ittttt?) 
> 
> Also, there's probably not a travel agency in the world who operates this way. Sending two employees off alone to some fancy resort for free just to get a review and a deal. I don't actually know anything about travel agencies. But this is fiction, so I'm going to have my cake and eat it! 
> 
> I hope everyone has had a good holiday! And if not, then I hope your New Years is the start of happier times!

**Ryuji**

Morning arrives like the tail end of a pleasant dream. Ryuji wakes to find that Akira's ordered breakfast again. They sit in comfortable silence while they eat. The sun rises high enough in the sky that it can breach the top of the mountains. It casts golden rays down into the valley. Ryuji watches the light extend, creeping across the snow like a stain on white carpet.

“Sunrises here are amazing,” Akira half whispers. His eyes are trained towards the windows and the amazing view beyond them.

“Yeah,” Ryuji agrees in a soft tone, but he's not paying attention to the sunrise anymore. Akira's face looks stunning in the dim morning light, his eyes soft and veiled by his long eyelashes. Ryuji wishes he had his camera, though he'd likely be too shy to go through with taking a photo. He's never thought of a man as 'beautiful' before, but Akira certainly is. It's a thought that Ryuji isn't sure what to do with, so he pushes it to the back of his mind. “What time do you hafta go to the meeting?”

“Soon. I need to start getting ready.”

“What are you even goin' to talk about?”

“Sales mostly. The resort will offer us discounts and packages we can pass on to clients. In exchange we'll bring them X amount of business,” Akira pauses and then sighs. “I'm actually coming up on a promotion.”

“For real?!”

“Yu Narukami, the current sales executive, is leaving the company. He wants to pursue a different career and I was next in line to replace him.”

“Narukami,” Ryuji thinks for a moment, trying to match the name with a face inside his mind. “Oh I know him, he works three floors above us. With all the big wigs-... Oh, so you would be transferrin' departments.”

“Yes.”

“Y'don't sound happy about it.”

“I am excited about a new opportunity, but it will be hard to leave everyone,” Akira rises from his seat and sighs. He stretches his arms over his head and says, “I should go get ready.”

“Yeah, no problem. I'm gonna start on my review thingy,” Ryuji stands and begins to clear their breakfast dishes. Akira hums a soft noise of acknowledgment and then moves off towards the bathroom. Once the dishes are gone from the table, Ryuji sits down in front of Akira's laptop. He tries to focus on his review, but his mind can't seem to stay on task.

Ryuji had never considered that Akira might someday leave or move to another department. He's certain that if he had heard the news earlier, before coming on the trip, he would have been happy about it. Not having to see Akira every day would have been a relief, but now it leaves Ryuji feeling hollow. Akira himself doesn't seem very enthusiastic. He might have accepted the position out of obligation more than an actual desire to move up. It's hard to imagine that feeling. From the moment he signed on to work for Metaverse, Ryuji has been working for better pay and better work.

He doesn't get a single thing written on paper before Akira returns.

“Holy shit,” Ryuji grumbles. “You really go all out, don't you?”

Ryuji is referring to the expensive suit Akira has on. It's jet black and tailored to his body, cut with so many sharp angles that it's almost geometric.

“The CEOs and managers for these big resorts are very wealthy,” Akira explains. He's standing in front of a mirror, trying to adjust the tie at his neck. His expression borders on somber. “They aren't going to take me seriously unless I look the part. I, uh, know from experience.”

“Hey, don't think of it like that,” Ryuji says sternly. He approaches Akira and gently knocks his hand out of the way to straighten his tie for him. “They'll take you seriously 'cause you know what you're talkin' about.”

“I wish that was true.”

“It is true,” Ryuji insists, his hands lingering on the soft silk of the tie. Akira is looking elsewhere, standing so ramrod straight that Ryuji can almost imagine a coil of metal running along his spine. His posture is inhumanly perfect. “Do you even want your promotion?”

“Sort of,” Akira brings his hands up to curl around Ryuji's. The touch sends a jolt of surprise up his back but he doesn't pull away. Ryuji glances up and gets lost in the hues of Akira's eyes. Today they're less silver, more of a stormy gray to match his sullen mood. “Thank you for helping me. I should be going.”

“Yeah, man, of course. Go kick some ass.”

Akira laughs and gives his hands a gentle squeeze. Ryuji returns the favor, enjoying the feeling more than he has any right to. He's reluctant for them to part, but Akira has to go.

“When I get back we'll go out and do something,” Akira promises as he moves towards the door. “Get your work done while I'm gone.”

“I'll try.”

“See you later.”

Ryuji sits down again in front of the laptop. Akira took the liberty of loading it up for him and a blank word document sits open on the screen. Ryuji drums his fingers over the keyboard, unsure of where he's supposed to start. He's never written a review before. The fact that it's going to be in a magazine adds an extra unnecessary layer of pressure. His fingers strike a button and all at once the document disappears. Ryuji's eyes flick towards the screen.

The desktop background is a photo of Akira, though perhaps at an earlier stage in his life. His face doesn't seem to carry the cares and worries that it does now. He's smiling at the camera, flanked by an older man with a horrible pointed goatee and by Futaba. Ryuji hasn't had many dealings with her, but from what he's heard, she's something of an oddball. Which reminds him, hadn't Akira said that she was his sister? He mentioned it only once and very briefly.

Akira hasn't talked about her any other time during the trip. Nor has he mentioned any other names that might be tied to the older man. The only 'family' that talked about has been his nameless rich parents. Questions flare to life inside Ryuji's mind. If Futaba is Akira's sister, why hasn't he brought her up? Who's the older man? They must be important, why else would Akira have set their photo as his desktop background?

He supposes it's not his business, but that doesn't stop him from wondering about it. It keeps him distracted enough that he can't get any work done. After a straight hour of trying, he gives up and settles for watching tv. Anything to keep his thoughts from jumping to unproven conclusions. He has a tendency to obsess over topics that grab his attention.

The morning passes agonizingly slow.

* * *

Akira doesn't return until after lunch, but his mood seems to have improved vastly. He's all smiles as he steps into the room and slips out of his jacket.

“I struck an amazing deal,” He tells Ryuji as he hangs up his coat. “I can show you the numbers later, if you like.”

“Uh, sure,” Ryuji rolls off the couch and stands up. His eyes flick towards the laptop and suddenly he feels guilty that he didn't try harder to get some work done. “I don't know that I'll understand much of it, but we can take a look.”

Akira flutters past him, undressing as he goes. He kicks out of his shoes by the door and then starts tearing off his tie. He ditches his suit jacket on the back of the couch. Halfway through unbuttoning his shirt, he seems to become aware of the fact that he's not alone. Ryuji stares at him with wide eyes, sputtering a bit in an attempt to form words, or at least a noise of protest.

“I'm sorry,” He says with a laugh. “You should see the look on your face right now.”

“C'mon man, don't say that!” Ryuji turns away. “You're the one bein' weird and undressing.”

“Really, I'm sorry. I tend not to think about things like that. I'm comfortable enough with my own body-”

“Yo, go get changed. I found somewhere I wanna go,” Ryuji moves over towards the laptop and pulls up the browser. He may not have gotten any work done, but he at least found them another location to visit within the resort.

“Where?” Akira undoes the cuffs at his wrists as he comes to stand next to Ryuji. There's a small map displayed on the screen of the laptop.

“There's this place called Main Street,” Ryuji explains, trying to ignore their close proximity. “It's got all these little local shops and businesses. I thought we could go and check some of them out. It's Christmas Eve, so it might be kinda crowded though-”

“I don't mind. Let me change and we'll go.” Akira gathers his clothes and saunters off towards the bedroom. Ryuji stares after him, heart still racing.

* * *

**Akira**

Ryuji is quiet during the short shuttle ride down to Main Street. Though, Akira notes, he doesn't look discontented in any way. Twice Ryuji catches him blatantly staring at him and offers a shy sort of smile and a half shrug. It's curious behavior to be sure and it continues long after they leave the bus stop behind.

Main Street is as it would imply, one of the main streets running through the resort. It's a long panel of paved bricks, flanked by wide sidewalks and buildings full of shops. There's an amass of variety, clothing stores, toy shops, cafes, and even a large Christmas store. The sparkling decorations inside the display window draw them over like moths to a flame.

“Do you want to go in?” Akira asks, earning another one of Ryuji's shy smiles.

“Yeah, man, we can go in,” Ryuji goes to take a step towards the door, but Akira grabs hold of the hem of his jacket to stop him.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, why wouldn't I be?”

Akira doesn't want to make any assumptions. He doesn't _actually_ know Ryuji that well. Maybe his quiet behavior is a normal thing and something Akira hadn't gotten to see yet. He untangles his fingers from the crisp material of the jacket. They're cold again, despite the knit gloves. It seems California is dead set upon punishing him for not buying something more substantial. He tucks his hands away in his pockets.

“No reason,” Akira says, inclining his head towards the door. “Let's go in.”

The store is even more dazzling on the inside than it had been on the outside, despite its modest size. There are three full Christmas trees, all decorated in different styles. The most traditional one has a small electric train running around the base. It catches Ryuji's attention almost immediately. Akira follows him as he walks over to kneel down by the tracks.

“Damn, this is so cool,” Ryuji murmurs, running his fingers over the tiny plastic and metal rails. “I'd have lost my mind if I got one of these as a kid.”

“I had one, for a little while,” Akira crouches down next to Ryuji. “I'm adopted, you know.”

Ryuji's head turns and his eyebrows raise. Akira supposes it's a wholly understandable reaction.

“My surname is Amamiya, or it was, before the adoption,” he continues, though he's not sure why. He's never enjoyed talking about his past, and especially not about the accident that altered his entire life. But Ryuji makes him feel safe and the words keep flowing even without Akira meaning for them too. “I was riding in the car with my parents, though I can't remember where we were going. A large truck hit us head-on. Both of my parents died instantly. I woke up a week later in the hospital, unable to remember anything. Not even my own name.”

“The Kurusus appeared not long after. Maybe friends of my parents, I never asked. They took me in and helped me through recovery. Eventually, they decided to adopt me,” Akira sighs, his head dizzy from the sudden rush of memories. “My very first Christmas in their home, they bought me a train set. I was-... Quiet back then, and still so very confused. I think they must have taken it as me being ungrateful or unhappy. The set went back in the box and I didn't see it again after that.”

“I was ten, or eleven. A whole decade of my life was gone and no matter how I tried, I couldn't get it back,” Akira pauses and swallows hard. His head feels fuzzy and his face feels hot. He can sense Ryuji staring at him, but he doesn't dare turn to meet his gaze. “So I asked them to give me a new name and to raise me as if they were my birth parents. I'm sure they thought it to be an odd request from someone so young. I felt indebted to them for taking me in, so I guess in my mind, it seemed to be the only option.”

“I wonder now if it was somehow disrespectful to the memory of my birth parents.”

“It's not,” Ryuji says in a low tone. He leans one of his shoulders against Akira's and the touch is unexpected but warm. “I obviously have no way of knowin', but I think your birth parents would understand. You did what you had to do to move on.”

The two of them don't speak for a few minutes, too absorbed in watching the tiny train zip along its tracks. It runs forever in a circle, always certain of where it's going, in a manner that seems almost prideful. In reality, all it would take is one disjoint in the track, or one tiny obstacle, to run the whole train off onto the carpet. Akira's tempted to stick his hand down over the rails, just to watch it happen. He's got his hand out of his pocket, the impulse overwhelming. Before he can make contact, one of Ryuji's hands comes over to curl around his own, altering his path.

“C'mon man. Let's go look at the ornaments. I see some pretty cool ones at the back of the store,” Ryuji suggests, though his expression is oddly serious. It's almost as if he knew what was on Akira's mind and saw fit to stop it. He squeezes Akira's hand and then stands up. “C'mon.”

Akira stands too. “Okay.”

* * *

**Ryuji**

They spend the better part of the afternoon trolling both sides of Main Street. They dip in and out of whatever shops catch their eye. They check out an antique shop, then a gem and mineral store, and a few clothing shops. Ryuji takes dozens of photographs. Most of them will have to be for his personal collection rather than the magazine. Thank god for the almost endless capacity of digital cameras. Had Ryuji been running with film, he would have run out hours ago.

“How about one last shop before dinner?” Akira suggests. He's standing outside of another clothing shop. His hands are shoved down into his pockets, shoulders hunched up like he's cold. Ryuji snaps a photo of him like that, earning a withering look from Akira. He's long since given up on trying to avoid becoming the subject of Ryuji's photos. “You obsessed with me or something, Sakamoto?”

“It's Ryuji, and not a chance,” Ryuji shoots back, coming over to stand by Akira's side. He elbows him, and the corners of Akira's mouth twitch slightly in amusement. “Let's go in. I'm gettin' hungry.”

“You're always hungry.”

“Exactly.”

The smell of leather hits them on the way inside the door. It gives a pretty clear indicator of what kind of shop they've entered. Akira branches off on his own, drawn to a rack of expensive-looking jackets. Ryuji chooses to wander around. He's browsing a rack of pants when his eyes catch sight of a big red sale sign. He mouths the English word a few times, trying to get the pronunciation correct.

“Hey, um, what does that say?” Ryuji asks, calling across the store to Akira. The other man joins him to read off the sign.

“Fifty-percent off sale,” Akira translates. “So everything in that area of the store is going to be half off the original price.”

“I bet it's all still too expensive.”

“Highly likely,” Akira agrees. Still, Ryuji can't help going over to check it out. His mother had always been a wizard at finding the best sales on things and Ryuji is nothing if not his mother's son. He begins fishing through the racks, checking prices. He uses his phone to convert dollars to yen. As he predicted, the prices are still a bit more than he'd be willing to pay for any of the items. At least, that's his thought, before his eyes fall on a pair of red leather gloves.

Ryuji picks them up out of the pile, running his thumbs over the smooth dyed leather. He turns them over in his hands, inspecting for defects or any reason why they might be in the bargain bin. He slips his hands into them and flexes his fingers to check the fit, finding them a tad too tight for his own hands. Disappointed, he takes them off to return them to the pile, but his mind thinks better of it.

“Try these on,” Ryuji suggests, carrying the gloves over to Akira. He's still wearing the pathetic knit ones he had on when they went snowboarding. They must not be working well for him, because all day he's had his hands in his pockets. Akira raises an eyebrow at him but doesn't protest. His hands are slimmer than Ryuji's, almost delicate. _Beautiful._ “So, whatdya think?”

“They fit,” Akira confirms, holding his hands out. As Ryuji thought, they suit Akira's hands much better than his own.

“You should get them.”

“I don't think personal purchases are something I should charge to the credit card.”

“So use your own money,” Ryuji insists. “You need somethin' better than what you've got. Especially if we plan to hit the slopes again in the morning.”

“I can go back to the supply store and get some winter gloves. We'll stop by on the way back to the hotel.”

“Then I'll buy them for ya.”

“Ryuji,” Akira says his name like a sigh and his eyebrows knit together in the center of his forehead. “Don't take this the wrong way, but that's too much. I should honestly get something practical that I can charge to the company card. I appreciate it, but I'm going to pass.”

“You don't like them,” Ryuji mumbles, offended despite Akira's insistence that he shouldn't be.

“I do like them, but-” Akira's eyes stray away and his voice lowers. He slips the gloves off and places them back into Ryuji's hands. “I don't need anything this nice, but thank you.”

Akira moves away to end the conversation. He even goes so far as to gesture Ryuji towards the front door, before going out of it himself.

“Touchy,” Ryuji grumbles, closing his hands around the gloves. He tries to be mad at Akira, but he can't muster up the courage to do it. Everything Akira told him at the Christmas shop is still heavy inside his mind. It's made for something of an awkward day. Ryuji's been walking around on eggshells, trying to be mindful of everything he says and does. Akira, on the other hand, has been almost over the top polite. They were easing back into more playful behavior, but now Ryuji's certain that he's stalled their progress.

He places the gloves back down, but he can't bring himself to leave them, at least not completely.

“Let's go,” Ryuji says as he exits the shop. Akira is waiting for him, looking up at the sky with an almost wistful expression. His breath rises like white smoke from between his lips. “Akira.”

“Sorry,” he apologizes, turning to look at Ryuji. “I saw a café a few blocks down. We should get something to eat there.”

“Sounds good to me.”

In fact, it's perfect for Ryuji's plan.

“What're you gonna get to eat?” Ryuji asks as they near the café.

“A sandwich or something,” Akira muses. “Definitely some coffee.”

“Can't get enough of it, can you?”

“Nope.”

Ryuji stops walking. He forces his expression into what he hopes passes for confusion.

“Wait,” Ryuji says. “I think I left my camera back at that shop.”

“What?” Akira's eyebrows rise in distress. “Let's go back for it.”

“Nah man, you stay here. I'll run back for it. Go ahead and order me somethin', I'm starving.”

“Oh, uh, okay. What do you want?”

Ryuji's already turned on his toes to leave, so he calls back over his shoulder, “Surprise me.”

His heart pounds with excitement as he walks double-time to make it back to the shop. In reality, his camera is tucked carefully under one of his arms, hidden by the thick fabric of his jacket.

He strolls back into the shop to retrieve the gloves, checking the price with a wince. They're around 8000 yen, almost a full day's pay, but it's worth it. He takes them to the counter, using English to the best of his ability to charge them to his card. The woman who rings him up seems to understand him well enough. Or understands the fact that it's Christmas Eve. She offers him a black gift box, adorned on the top with a red ribbon and bow, for the gloves to go inside. He thanks her profusely and offers her the best 'Merry Christmas' he can manage.

Ryuji's pulse pounds inside his head and it makes him feel dizzy as he walks back towards the café. The box is tucked away inside his right pocket and he traces the outline of it with his fingers. Should he give the gloves right away? Wait for Christmas morning? After dinner? He's so excited about it that he's nearly shaking. He's never bought a gift like this for someone before, he isn't sure how to handle the logistics of it.

He opens the door to the café and steps inside, stunned by the switch from cold to warm. Akira is sitting in the far corner, wearing a grim expression as he stares down at the table. Ryuji's heart sinks to see him like that. If he's reading the mood right, now is definitely not a good time for gift giving. It's disappointing, but what can he do?

“I got it!” Ryuji announces as he approaches the table, holding his camera up. Akira lifts his face and halfway smiles.

“Oh, I'm so glad. I was worried someone might have taken it,” Akira sighs as Ryuji sits down in the seat across from him. “I ordered you some tea and grilled cheese, I hope that's okay.”

“It's awesome, man. Thanks.”

Ryuji's tea is already on the table. He picks it up, allowing the warmth to seep into his hands as he lifts it to his mouth. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Akira, who has gone back to brooding.

“So, it's Christmas Eve,” Ryuji says as he places his mug back down on the table. “We should do something fun to celebrate.”

Akira's eyes flick towards him and his head tilts slightly.

“I saw an ice skating rink while we were walking around today. We should go.”

“I don't know how,” Akira says gruffly.

“Finally, something you _don't_ know how to do,” Ryuji leers, trying to bait Akira into a more jovial mood. “Something I'm better at.”

“You know how to ice skate?”

“Sure. There was this big pond in my hometown that used to freeze over every winter. We'd all go skatin' on it. So I'll teach you.”

“I don't know if my pride could handle that,” Akira says and it's almost teasing. A dim light has reentered his eyes. “What if I fall down and break a hip?”

“What are you? An old man, jeeze,” Ryuji snorts in amusement. “I won't let you fall.”

Akira stares at him for a moment or so and then asks, “You promise?”

“I promise.”

* * *

They luck out, the rink is nearly empty by the time they arrive. Most of the patrons have gone home for the day, back to their cozy hotel rooms. Akira rents their skates and then the two of them move into the locker room to store their things away. The rink is indoors, so it's not so cold that they need to bring along their heavy winter jackets. It's just as well, Ryuji still has precious cargo hidden away inside one of his pockets.

They move out to sit on a bench to lace up their boots. Ryuji finishes first, so he walks himself down to the entryway and glides out onto the ice. It's been a while since he's been skating, so his balance isn't as perfect as he hopes. He doesn't fall right off the bat, so he takes that as a good sign. Akira is slower, using the wall to help him balance as he figures out how to walk on top of the narrow blades. Ryuji tries and fails, not to laugh.

“I wish I had been able to bring my camera, this is hilarious,” He snickers. Akira shoots him a dirty look as he finally nears the ice. Ryuji glides over to him, offering his hands. “Sorry, I'll be serious now.”

“You promised not to let me fall.”

“I keep my promises, don't worry.”

Akira takes hold of Ryuji's hands, holding them like a vice as he takes his first step out.

“I can skate backwards, so hang onto me,” Ryuji kicks back with his skates and propels them slowly. Akira's hands tighten even more around his hands. Ryuji bites his tongue and tries to ignore how much it hurts. “Straighten your back some.”

“I'm trying,” Akira growls.

“Here, let's try somethin' else.”

Ryuji pulls them to a stop and then moves around behind. He runs a hand up Akira's back, forcing it into proper alignment. Akira shivers and shoots him a wide-eyed look. Heat surges up the back of Ryuji's neck.

“Sorry,” He mumbles. “Just keep your back like that.”

“Got it,” Akira says stiffly. Ryuji takes a nervous breath and then places his hands atop Akira's shoulders. He shifts them as well.

“Just... Keep yourself like that, but also, like, try to relax.”

“I'm not sure I can do both.”

“You can,” Ryuji says, trying to reassure him. “Keep your feet a bit closer together and try not to turn your ankles out so much.”

“This is complicated,” Akira sighs, but he does his best to comply. Ryuji links their arms and begins taking them on a long loop around the edges of the rink.

“If you lose your balance, lean on me and I'll fix it,” Ryuji tells him. “At least we're movin' at a steady pace now.”

“How did you learn to skate?”

“Oh, my mom taught me. Used to take me out on the ice when I was a little kid.”

“I'm sorry again that you didn't get a chance to see her,” Akira says as they pass the halfway point in their first lap. He's finally starting to relax enough that his balance isn't so compromised.

“I'll go see her soon. Don't feel like you have to keep apologizin'. Okay?” Ryuji moves to switch topics before Akira's mood takes another nosedive. “I'm going to let go of you, but I'll stay right nearby.”

“Don't let go-”

Ryuji unlinks his arm and slows his pace. Akira keeps moving beyond him, propelled by his own inertia.

“That's perfect!” Ryuji enthuses, reaching out a hand to give him an extra push. Akira's arms flail a bit as he struggles to balance without Ryuji as his aid.

“This is not perfect!” Akira snaps. “I don't know how to turn!”

“You just-”

But it's too late. Akira's body lilts to the side and he jerks to try and correct it. All at once he starts falling and it's all Ryuji can do to catch him. The breath wheezes out of Ryuji's lungs as he ends up on his back. Akira falls down on top of him, further pressing the oxygen out of his chest. He lays dizzy and winded.

“Ryuji!” Akira's voice calls to him from above and all at once the weight on Ryuji's chest is gone. “Are you okay?”

He can't speak, so instead, he flaps an arm uselessly at his side.

“Should I get someone?!”

“No,” Ryuji rasps as his body figures out how to breathe again. He closes his eyes to rest. “Jus' gimme a second.”

“Sorry,” Akira blubbers.

Ryuji lays very still and waits for his head to stop spinning.

“Can you sit up?” Akira asks when Ryuji reopens his eyes. He becomes aware of the fingers carding through his hair. And the fact that Akira is still poised over top of him. Ryuji glances up, halfway amused by the look of utter distress on Akira's face.

“I'm okay,” Ryuji insists, chuckling softly. “Move back some.”

“I'll help you.”

Akira's hands move down to curl around Ryuji's shoulders. They pull him into an upright position. It's completely unnecessary, but Ryuji isn't going to complain.

“Sorry, I promised not to let you fall,” Ryuji says sheepishly. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine. You softened the impact for me,” Akira's face crinkles up some and then he laughs. It's the best sound Ryuji's heard all day. The first time Akira's seemed genuinely happy since the Christmas store.

“I'm glad I could be useful to you.”

“You've been useful this entire trip,” Akira says. “Honestly, I've enjoyed having you around.”

“For real?” Ryuji asks because he doesn't feel like that could be true. “I don't think I've done all that much.”

“You have.”

Ryuji, too flustered to reply, stumbles back to his feet.

“Are you ready to stop?” Ryuji asks as he helps Akira up.

“I think I want to keep going,” Akira says. “Don't let go of me this time.”

“I won't. I promise.”

“Yeah, we've already seen how well your promises work out.”

Ryuji lets out a bark of laughter as the two of them return to skating, this time hand in hand.

* * *

“Let's go down to sit in the hot tub,” Akira declares once they make it back to the room.

“The hot tub?” Ryuji raises his eyebrows. “No way man, I'm tired and I didn't bring anything to swim with.”

“Wear boxers. It'll be fine, no one will notice.”

“The hell, man?”

Akira doesn't seem willing to take no for an answer. Despite his exhaustion, Ryuji allows himself to be taken down three floors to where the 'hot tub' is. He's not expecting much, just the standard cramped circle of hot water that most hotels have. Instead, he's greeted by a fair-sized steaming pool, surrounded on three sides by faux rock formations. A cover lays overtop, to keep the snow out and the heat in.

“It's similar to an onsen,” Akira explains. “Though I think in America they call it a spa.”

“Okay, I'm a little more impressed now,” Ryuji admits. Akira scans their keycard to unlock the cover. The two of them roll it back, revealing the water underneath. Ryuji runs his fingers over the surface, recoiling from the sudden shock of heat.

“Let's get in.”

They're cold for only a moment after they shed out of their overclothes, but it's enough that Ryuji's teeth attempt to start chattering. They clack together, even as he wades out into the water. There are cement seats built into the edges of the spa, allowing both of them to sink down up to their shoulders. Further, if they slouch.

“I'm not sure how I feel about my face being out in the cold,” Ryuji admits. His cheeks and the back of his ears still feel frozen.

“The steam will warm them in a minute,” Akira insists. He takes a seat next to Ryuji and for the first time, he notices that Akira's brought a bottle of wine with them.

“Where the hell did you get that?”

“From the wine chiller in the room.”

“ _When_ did you grab it?”

“Right before we left. You don't have to have any if you don't want to.”

Ryuji takes a moment to decide, weighing the risks against the current state of his nerves.

“I'll have some,” He says, holding his hand out for the bottle.

“It's the cheap kind,” Akira mumbles, taking off the twist cap. “Real wine comes with a cork.”

Akira hands it over and Ryuji drinks.

“You don't have to chug it,” Akira laughs, pulling the bottle away from him. “I have another one I can grab. I stuck it down in the snow by our stuff.”

“Oh man, I think this wine is worse than the other kind we had at the steak house,” Ryuji complains. “I seriously cannot understand the appeal.”

“It's kind of like coffee, you either like it or you don't.”

“I don't like coffee either.”

“You don't have a very refined palate,” Akira teases. He moves closer to Ryuji until their arms and shoulders brush together. He tilts his head back to look up at the sky, gasping audibly. “There are so many stars.”

Ryuji looks too, shocked by the sight. Billions of tiny lights dot the heavens. More than he ever saw back home and certainly more than Tokyo showed. He doesn't know much about constellations, but he imagines that he can see a great many of them. Akira knows, of course, and unprompted he begins to point them out. It's as if he knew exactly what Ryuji was thinking.

Ryuji listens closely to Akira's words, but soon even those fade, and it's merely the tone of his voice. Something both warm and painful is forming inside Ryuji's chest. It presses like a weight against his ribcage, making it difficult to breathe. Steam coming off of the water fills his lungs, a precursor to drowning, though not in the physical sense. He's drowning in feelings, in emotions he shouldn't be able to have, in a fondness he knows is forbidden.

 _I like him_ , Ryuji admits to himself. _This is bad._

Ryuji takes the wine bottle back from Akira and sips slowly at it.

“Really, Ryuji, don't drink it if you don't like it,” Akira mumbles, distracted from his star charting.

“I'm okay. It's bad, but I'll get used to it,” Ryuji says, tightening his grip around the bottle.

“You'll get drunk again.”

“Maybe.”

“Don't pass out from the heat,” Akira warns, returning to his survey of the sky.

In such close proximity, Ryuji's entire body is asking for things it can't have. A soft twining of fingers, a gentle brushing of palms, Akira's lips against his. His heart races, threatening to tear free of flesh and bone. His head spins as he chokes, trying to breathe evenly. Mouth dry, he tries to take another drink of the wine, but there's nothing left. Disappointing. He sets the empty bottle down at the edge of the spa and closes his eyes to rest.

“Ryuji,” A sharp voice pulls him back. Akira has one hand on his shoulder and another against his chest to steady him. “Are you dizzy? We should get out now. The water is too hot. Or you drank too much.”

Ryuji turns to look at him and all the tension inside his body snaps. He hooks a hand around behind Akira's head and grips a fistful of black curls, using his hold to yank him closer. Their faces are now an inch or so apart, shared breathing space. Ryuji can feel the tension in Akira's shoulders, see the hesitation in his gray eyes.

“Ryuji,” Akira says around a hard swallow. “Don't tell me you finally noticed the mistletoe above the pool.”

“I didn't see it,” Ryuji grumbles, glancing up. Sure enough, above them is an obnoxiously large plastic sprig of mistletoe. It hovers from a wire overtop the entire spa, maybe as a joke, maybe to incite romance. “Holy shit, it's huge.”

“It's ridiculous.”

“Hell yeah, it is.”

“Ryuji,” Akira calls his attention back. He moves closer so that he can straddle Ryuji's waist with a knee on either side, nearly sitting in his lap. “You're dangerously close to breaching Rule Number One: No kissing.”

“But there's mistletoe,” Ryuji insists, tightening his hold on Akira's hair again. Akira's eyes flutter shut and he places a weak hand down against Ryuji's chest. “You don't want to kiss me?”

Akira sighs, “I do.”

“But?”

“The rules.”

“C'mon man, to hell with the rules,” Ryuji pulls Akira's head down. “Look at me.”

Akira's eyes open, lashes parting like curtains over his silver irises.

“You're breaking Rule Seven as well.”

“Don't remember what that one is.”

Akira smiles in a way that's not altogether nice and closes the distance between them. The kiss ignites something inside Ryuji. It bursts like a flash of lightning, leaving him completely out of breath. Akira takes advantage of this and uses it as a way to deepen the kiss, to press his way into Ryuji's mouth with his tongue. Ryuji submits to it, to everything. The feeling of Akira's lips on his, the heat of the water, the chill of the cold air, the wine running through his veins. For a few long moments, he's mindless. He can only process the pleasure that comes from being held by the person he's fallen for.

 _The person he's fallen for._ That thought leads to another, and another, until finally, Ryuji remembers.

“ _Rule Number Seven: Try not to fall for me.”_

He cringes away from Akira and turns his face to the side, breathing raggedly.

“Fuck,” He hisses, placing a firm hand against Akira's chest. “Get off.”

“You finally remembered,” says Akira, with a deep and shuddering sigh. He moves off of Ryuji and back to his earlier position on one of the cement steps. They sit side by side in silence, save for the sound of Ryuji trying to catch his breath. Damn altitude. “I'm sorry.”

“What do you have to be sorry for?” Ryuji asks. “I'm the one that-”

“That?”

“Overstepped. I came on this trip, gun blazing to hate you and now,” Ryuji's voice wavers. It's hard to say it out loud, but he still feels like he has to try. “Now I like you. More than I got any right to.”

“I see, that is a problem,” Akira speaks in an understanding tone. It's like they're discussing the weather instead of Ryuji's newfound feelings. “We should get back to the room. It's getting late.”

“So that's... It? We kiss, I confess, and you go to bed?”

“What else am I supposed to do?”

“I dunno,” Ryuji grumbles, anger replacing despair. “Respond?”

“I don't have anything to say,” Akira stands up and moves towards the exit ladder. “If you don't want this to go any further, you should put it out of your mind and forget about it. Forget about me. We're just coworkers.”

“But-”

“You asked me to respond and I have. Let's go.”

Ryuji extracts himself from the warmth of the spa and moves to join Akira outside of it. They dry themselves off as best they can before shrugging back into their clothes. The cold is moving in around them and it follows them all the way back to the room.

“Take a shower and go to bed,” Akira instructs. Ryuji isn't going to argue. He warms himself up under the spray and then changes into his pajamas. Akira doesn't so much as look at him as they swap places. His expression is very much like it was the day they arrived, indifferent.

“Goodnight,” Ryuji calls after him.

“Goodnight,” Akira sighs back, shutting the bedroom door behind himself. Ryuji stays up, hoping that after Akira showers he might come back out, but he doesn't. All the lights go out in the bedroom and the suite falls silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not crying, you're crying. ( ༎ຶД༎ຶ`)


	5. Christmas Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;3; Sorry I'm so turtle slow with my writing you guys. I have been stuck in the depressions and it's been hard to write anything. This fic will be coming to a close soon! Maybe I'll actually finish something this year! lol

**Akira**

The clock on the nightstand reads 3:19 AM. Akira wonders, not for the first time, if there's any point in trying to go to sleep.

_I've made a huge mistake._

That thought rings like an endless chime inside his head. What started out as a playful approach to the assignment has turned into-... Honestly, nothing. Nothing, because Akira couldn't allow himself to reciprocate Ryuji's feelings. No matter how much he wanted to, it's too complicated. A one-sided office crush is one thing. Tricking your coworker into liking you back is another. And Akira hates himself for both.

_I have to apologize._

Akira sighs and rolls over from his back onto his side. A change in position will help him relax enough to sleep.

The clock on the nightstand reads 4:02 AM.

* * *

Akira wakes to bright sunlight streaming in through his window. He's overslept. He turns away from the light and lays quietly for a while. Once he's mustered up the strength, he opens his eyes to check the time. It's almost 9.

“Shit,” He grumbles, feeling around inside the sheets for his phone. He's probably got a dozen or more emails to respond to, missed calls from Kawakami, IMs from Futaba.

“Are you okay?”

Akira nearly jumps out of his skin. He had assumed he was alone, but Ryuji's standing in the doorway.

“Sorry,” Ryuji adds. “You hadn't woken up yet, so I thought I'd check-”

“I'm fine, thank you,” Akira tells him tersely. He unlocks his phone to see a barrage of notifications.

“I was gonna order food. D'ya want anything?”

“No. I have some work to see to.”

“Right,” Ryuji hesitates in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot. “I'm real sorry about last night. If you could forget about it-”

“You were drunk, I understand,” It's definitely the wrong thing to say. Ryuji's entire face goes slack and his eyes darken. He doesn't say anything else before turning around to leave the room.

Akira should follow him, apologize and try to reassure him, but he doesn't. He stays in bed replying to emails and forwarding documents. He works on his phone as long as he can, but there's a limit to what he can do on it. His laptop is still out in the living room, and so he forces himself to get up to go retrieve it.

“I ordered you somethin' anyways,” Ryuji tells him as he emerges from the bedroom. His expression is guarded and there's a forced cheerfulness to his voice. “Don't feel like you gotta eat it though.”

“No, that's-” Akira isn't sure what to say, so he settles on, “That's perfect. Thank you.”

He notices, with a small flicker of happiness, that Ryuji kept his eating preferences in mind.

“Y'gonna sit down with me to eat it?”

“Sure.”

It's awkward. The entire meal is accompanied by a long stretch of silence. Neither one of them can think of anything to talk about. Ryuji eats with a precision that looks almost painful, every movement is measured. It's a startling change from his usual fidgeting. Akira thought he might never get used to it, but now that it's gone, it's even more of an irritation. He reaches across the table to set his hand over one of Ryuji's.

Softly, he says, “Relax. Please?”

“I am relaxed,” Ryuji insists. His hand is like a vice around his fork and it tightens more under Akira's touch. “What's on the schedule for today? I need to get a few more shots of the ski area. I can go by myself if you're busy.”

“I'll go with you,” Akira says as he draws back towards his side of the table. “We're only here for one more day, so let's make the most of it. We can take our boards with us. Maybe try out another run.”

“Sure, man. Let's do it.”

“I'll finish up some work, and then we can go.”

Akira opens the lid of his laptop and sits patiently while the desktop loads. He's just opened his email client when Ryuji asks, “Who's that on your desktop background?”

“Huh?” The question throws Akira for a minute until he remembers what photo it's set to. “Oh, that's Sojiro and Futaba. Sojiro is her adoptive father.”

“Wait, so she's adopted too? And uh, correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't'ya say she was your sister or somethin'?”

“She is, though we're not blood-related. It's uh, kind of a long story,” Akira turns his face away to look out the window, discomfort forming inside his chest. “I left home when I was eighteen, with no money and no sense about the world. Sojiro gave me a job and took me in. He let me stay in the attic above his café and-”

“You don't have to talk about it,” Ryuji insists, halfway cutting Akira off. “I feel like... I force you to tell me all this deep stuff but I can see on your face that you hate talking about it.”

“I do hate talking about it but...I also feel oddly comfortable around you. If you don't want to hear it-”

“No, it's fine. I'll listen.”

They fall into another lull of silence and within it, Akira loses his nerve.

“Some other time,” He suggests. Ryuji accepts it without so much as an eyebrow twitch.

“Get some work done, man,” Ryuji tells him in a soft voice. To give Akira space or himself space, Ryuji gathers the last of his food and moves to the couch with it. “Oh hey... I forgot it's Christmas today, huh?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Well Merry Christmas,” Ryuji glances over his shoulder at Akira and smiles. “Let's have fun today, okay? Tomorrow we have to go through the airport again.”

“Yeah,” Akira agrees and then stammers out a soft, “Merry Christmas, Ryuji.”

Concentrating on work is near impossible, though. Akira forces himself to take care of the most urgent tasks. His mind keeps bouncing back to the fact that it's a holiday, usually one where people exchange gifts. It would be nonsense to assume that he and Ryuji were expected to participate, but part of Akira still wants to. Even if it's not seen as a Christmas gift, he feels he should get Ryuji something. Even if it's just to thank him for coming on the trip. To thank him for-... Everything.

An idea shoots through his mind, but it's something he won't be able to get for Ryuji on his own. Akira pulls up his chat client and shoots out a message to Ann Takamaki. She's Ryuji's childhood friend after all, who would know him better than her?

_\--Hey Ann, I have a huge favor to ask of you._

* * *

**Ryuji**

It's another perfectly sunny day by the time they make it up to the slopes. A stark contrast to Ryuji's mood, though he's doing his best to push past it.

“Grab my camera for me,” Ryuji says to Akira as they step off the transportation bus. Akira's carrying his camera bag again, keeping the expensive equipment safe from harm.

“Here,” Akira says, stiffly passing the heavy device off to him. Ryuji takes a few steps forward and to the left, trying to get the angle that he wants. He can feel Akira's eyes on him, burning against his skin. He pushes the discomfort away to steady his camera, snapping a few shots of the mountain. After checking how the photos turned out on the camera's screen, he hands it back to Akira for stowing. “How do you decide what to take a picture of?”

“Huh? Oh, I don't got a method or anythin'. It's all kind of subjective anyways. I shoot whatever I think looks good.”

“Ah, that must be why you took so many pictures of me.”

Ryuji glances at Akira and tries to determine if he's joking or not. There's a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips and somehow that's a relief.

“Nah, I was tryin' to take photos of other things. You just got in the way,” Ryuji quips back, grinning at the look of faux outrage on Akira's face.

“Keep talking like that and you'll hurt my feelings,” Akira sighs, gripping his chest. Ryuji's eyes flick towards his hand, he's still wearing the knit gloves. Ryuji drops one of his own hands down to feel for the gift box, still inside his pocket from the night before.

“Hey, um,” he begins in a small voice. His heart starts racing from nerves and the sudden rush of blood to his head makes him feel dizzy. “I have something-”

“Something?”

“It's nothin' man. Let's go.” Ryuji's resolve crumbles. Things are complicated enough between the two of them, why push it? “What run should we go on next?”

“There's a beginner-intermediate run across the bridge,” Akira notes. He's moved beyond the shuttle drop off to a map board a few paces away. Ryuji hikes his snowboard up under his arm and moves to stand beside him. “It's not a difficult run in terms of slope angle, but it's lengthy. We would have to take one of the larger lifts to get up the mountain.”

“That's fine,” Ryuji says. He checks the map and moves off to leave, but Akira doesn't follow. Ryuji glances back at him, noting the hesitant downturn of the other man's lips. “Unless you'd rather do somethin' else?”

“I'm nervous about the lift.”

“What?”

“I'm not overly fond of heights,” Akira explains in a quiet voice. “I'll be okay though.”

“You're sure?” Ryuji's eyebrows furrow. He steps back towards Akira to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. The touch startles them both, but he doesn't move his hand away. “Don't force yourself. If you ain't comfortable, then we don't gotta do it.”

“I'll be okay. I'm just warning you that I'm nervous.”

“I'll be with ya.”

Akira looks at him with soft eyes and a slight upturn to his lips.

“Thank you,” Akira says, dropping his gaze away. Ryuji releases his hold and the two of them turn towards the mountain. They have to cross a bridge to get to the loading area. It's strongly built, heavy wooden planks to aid their way over a rushing river. Midway across, the two men stop to look over the railing at the churning black waters.

“It's amazing it hasn't frozen over,” Ryuji notes, leaning over the rail to get a better look.

“Large rivers like this move so fast that the water has a hard time freezing.”

“Wonder where it's all goin'.”

“Me too,” Akira muses, chuckling. He pokes out an elbow to jab Ryuji in the side. “Come on.”

They cross the rest of the bridge, walking so close together that their arms brush. Ryuji is hyperaware of the touch, heart pounding from the small bit of contact. On the other side, Akira tosses his snowboard down and begins strapping into it.

“So,” Ryuji begins as they lean down to adjust their board bindings in preparation for the lift. “Why are you afraid of heights?”

“Believe it or not, I was dropped as an infant,” Akira says, so serious that for half a moment Ryuji believes him. The glint in his gray eyes gives him away.

“Eff you, man. That's not why.”

“It's no fun if you don't try to guess.”

“Guessing ain't fun,” Ryuji huffs as they move into a position to catch their chair. The lift's chairs are larger than the ones on the runs they went on before, and faster. Ryuji's board almost shoots out from under him when the chair comes around to pick them up. He's saved by Akira's arm around his waist. It holds tightly to steady him until he can situate himself on the seat. “Thanks, man. I thought I was a goner.”

“That,” Akira says firmly. “Is why I don't like heights.”

“Because of a ski lift?”

“Mmm, I fell off of one when I was younger. Broke my shoulder.”

“Ouch,” Ryuji says, wincing sympathetically. “Breakin' bones hurts like hell. Wrecked my knee runnin' track in college. Thankfully it was the end season of my last year, but... Killed any chance of goin' pro.”

“That sucks,” Akira says dourly. He reaches up to pull the lap bar down over them, eyeing the ground warily. They're almost to the full height of the lift, yards higher than the snow. Akira's face looks pale despite the chill.

“It's okay,” Ryuji says to him in a gentle voice. “If you fall, I'll jump after you.”

“Oh good, then we'll both die.”

“People don't die fallin' off ski lifts. ...I don't think.”

Akira laughs, though the sound is tense, “You're very reassuring.”

“I try,” Ryuji shrugs his shoulders, trying to keep their playful momentum. “Gimme my camera. I want to take some photos.”

The two of them chat sporadically, commenting on the scenery as Ryuji snaps photos.

“What got you into photography?” Akira asks as Ryuji returns his camera to its bag.

“Ah, my mom's real into it,” Ryuji explains. “When I was little she used to work at this camera shop. She brought home an old and broken camera and fixed it up. Started takin' photos of everything.”

“So you got into cameras because she got into them?”

“Basically,” Ryuji says. “It was fun. We used to go out together and take a bunch of photos. Burned through hundreds of rolls of film, until we got into digitals. Though she still likes to shoot old school sometimes. She's got a red room at her house.”

“It sounds like fun to develop your own photos.”

“It's fun, but a process,” Ryuji shakes his head at the memory. “I definitely prefer digital. I don't have the patience.”

“That doesn't surprise me,” Akira laughs. “You move a mile a minute.”

“Says the guy who zips around the office. I've seen you, man, you never just... Sit down at your desk.”

“What? Were you watching me?”

“Nope,” Ryuji swings his loose leg, shifting the chair. Akira's eyebrows shoot up and his hands curl around the lap bar. He kneads his fingers against the metal nervously. His knit gloves are an eyesore. “It's like a rush of wind when you shoot by. Hard not to notice that..”

“I'm a busy man.”

“Guess you won't have to worry about that when you join the higher-ups. You'll have your own office or somethin'.”

“With a view,” Akira agrees, smiling solemnly. “I'll miss the comradery of cubicles.”

“I hear they have a coffee bar up there,” Ryuji teases. “You won't have to use the Keurig anymore.”

“That... I'm actually looking forward to that.”

“I knew it!”

Before either of them can say anything more, the lift comes to a sudden and abrupt halt. The force of the stop causes their chair to swing sharply forward and back. Akira's entire body tenses and the color drains from his face.

In a strained voice, he asks, “What was that? Why did we stop?”

“No idea,” Ryuji says as he tries to look ahead. They're just over halfway to the top. It's too far for him to make out if anything happened further down the line. “Maybe someone slipped while they were gettin' off the lift. I'm sure it'll start back up in a minute.”

“I wish it wasn't swinging.”

“You're good, man,” Ryuji murmurs, patting Akira consolingly on the leg. “I won't let you fall. Shut your eyes if you think it'll help.”

They sit in silence as the rocking of the chair loses momentum. Akira's eyes stay shut the entire time, his hands clenched tightly around the lap bar. Ten minutes pass. then fifteen, with no reason or explanation. Overhead the sun shines brightly. Despite the cool winter temperatures, Ryuji finds himself hot inside his jacket. Sweat pools uncomfortably along the length of his back. Akira has gone statue still.

“You okay?” Ryuji asks in a low tone. Akira shoots a sharp look in his direction.

“Fine,” He grumbles back, looking anything but.

“It looks like we're gonna be here a while.”

“That's-” Akria whispers around a deep and shuddering breath. He seems to lose his train of thought and instead says, “Fuck.”

Fuck is right. Ryuji is at a loss on what he should be doing. Should he say something positive? Try to distract Akira with conversation? Physical touch? Definitely not that. Ryuji isn't brave enough to attempt it.

“Say something,” Akira grits out, his voice so low that Ryuji isn't sure that he heard it.

“I don't know what to say,” he replies helplessly.

“Anything. I need something to concentrate on.”

So Ryuji does what he's always done best, he rambles. He launches into the story of his college track career. It's boring, but he doubts Akira cares much about that. He's slumped over like a wilted flower, silent and unmoving.

“You didn't have a heart attack and die, right?” Ryuji asks when they reach the full hour mark. Akira cracks open an eye to glance at him.

“I'm still here,” Akira assures him, though he looks anything but happy about it. “The least they could do is send someone down the line to let us know what's going on.”

“For real. Guess I'll be knocking a star off of my review, huh?”

“I would.”

“Speakin' of,” Ryuji presses, determined to keep the conversation going. “When we get back to Tokyo, can you help me with it again? I'm having a hard time with it.”

“What part?”

“All of it, man! It's no use. I'm not a review guy!”

“How much have you written?” Akira asks, sitting up straighter in his seat. Some color has returned to his face and Ryuji takes that as a good sign.

“Y'know... Like... Two paragraphs.”

“That's it?!”

“I ain't a writer! I suck at puttin' words down on paper,” laments Ryuji. “Please help me. I really need the promotion she promised me.”

“I forgot about that,” Akira says in a measured voice. His face has gone slack, sans the slight furrowing of his eyebrows. If Ryuji hadn't been staring so intently at his face, he would have missed it. “Is that why you did it?”

“Did what? Came on this trip? Yeah, I mean, I wouldn't have come if she hadn't bribed me,” Ryuji halfway shrugs in an attempt to keep things casual. It's the truth. At that time nothing else would have convinced him to spend his Christmas with 'Akira Kurusu'. His opinion may have changed since then, but he can't deny his original motive. “I want to be able to do more with my photography. That, and it's not like I'm not hurtin' for the pay raise.”

Akira's face has gone pale again.

“No, Ryuji,” Akira mutters, his voice low with uncertainty. “I mean all the stuff you and I did. Dinner, holding hands,” he inhales slightly, “the kiss.”

Oh.

“Well uh, see the thing is,” Ryuji's mind explodes into panicked overdrive. How can he fix this? Especially when he's not completely certain of his own feelings on the matter. “I mean, we had decided at the start of the trip to pretend we were here as a couple. So, of course, I was tryin' to do that as best I could. Th-Then it kind of changed? Or I changed? I'm not sure how to explain it-”

“It's okay.”

“What?”

Akira shrugs and says, “It's fine if you were doing it to get ahead in your career. It's not like I haven't done my fair share of that.”

“Man, no, it's not like that,” Ryuji insists. “At least I don't think it was.”

“You don't 'think' it was.”

“I haven't had time to decide my feelin's yet. Okay?”

“There's no point in having any, is there?”

“There is a point!” Ryuji snaps. “I don't know for sure yet, but I might actually like you.”

“Don't,” Akira holds up a hand between them, a small physical barrier to keep Ryuji away. “Even if that's true, nothing can come of it. We're coworkers, and what's more, I'm your superior. We can't cross that line.”

“Uh, it's a little damn late to be deciding that.”

“Honestly this is all my fault,” Akira says, looking suddenly exhausted. He leans forward to rest his elbows against the lap bar so that he can bury his face in his hands. He rubs at his eyes and goes on to say, “I preyed on you.”

“What? When?” This is news to Ryuji. The entire trip had been him pushing himself on Akira, how could it be otherwise?

“From the start,” Akira explains in a tight voice. “When Kawakami suggested that you come on this trip with me, I wasn't upset because of your inexperience. Though I guess that was a minor detail. I was upset because-” Akira stops talking completely. He breathes out a few heavy breaths, moving his mouth as if trying to form actual words. Finally, he's able to croak out, “because for a long time now, I've liked you.”

“Y'mean like, liked me liked me?”

“Yes.”

“But you didn't even know me,” Ryuji says in disbelief. “I don't think I said more than ten words to you my entire first year at the company.”

“It was your photos, at first,” Akira says. His bright gray eyes drift over to glance in Ryuji's direction, a flash of silver. They flick away, and he stares out over the horizon, scanning the snowy landscape. He looks as if he's lost amongst it all. “Then I started to notice _you_. The way you held yourself or the way you talk. How kind you are to those around you. How hard you work on all your projects. They're small things, but I felt like I knew you through them.”

“I was excited to come on this trip because I thought I could get to know you more personally,” Akira admits. “I let myself get carried away and I took advantage of the situation.”

“You didn't seem excited,” Ryuji points out, to which Akira laughs bitterly.

“I was trying to reign myself in. I didn't intentionally try to be cold to you.”

“Wait, so this whole time you've had this big crush on me? And you were really just holdin' back?”

Akira's quiet for a long moment before whispering, “Yes.”

“Shit,” Ryuji hisses the words, his body thrumming with shock. It's certainly the last thing he ever expected. “Oh man, when I kissed you last night-... I mean, you were really into it, weren't you?”

“Yes.”

“And when I told'ya I liked ya, you must have been happy. Right?”

“Yes,” Akira sighs and his breath rises like a little puff of white steam. “Yes, okay? I was happy when you did those things. If you want to file a sexual harassment report when we get back, I'll print the paperwork off for you myself.”

“What?” Ryuji's heart jolts at the suggestion. “Why would I want to do that?”

“You were drunk, Ryuji. You were drunk and I knew it and I still let you-”

“I wasn't _that_ drunk. Okay? I knew what I was doin' and I still did it.”

“For your promotion.”

“Because I like you!” Ryuji groans in frustration. “Akira, for real man, I really do like you back. I didn't do any of it for my promotion, I did it because I wanted to, because it felt right-”

Before Ryuji can say more, the loud humming of a snowmobile drowns his voice out. The two men glance down to see that a ski patrol officer has parked himself directly under their chair. He calls something up to them, though his words are beyond Ryuji. Akira replies in English, though he doesn't look pleased about it. The officer gets back on his snowmobile and drives away.

“There's a problem with the motor that controls the lift,” Akira explains. “We could be here a while.”

“Took them long enough to let us know,” Ryuji scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“We should put on some more sunscreen,” Akira suggests. He pulls his backpack around to the front and begins to dig through it. He's trying to change the topic, that much is obvious. Ryuji isn't sure if he should let it go or not.

“You like bein' pale?” he leers playfully, but Akira doesn't banter back. “C'mon man... Don't be like that.”

“I'm not being like anything.” he sighs as he pulls the sunscreen from his pack. He holds his arm out to stiffly offer the tube over to Ryuji.

“Didn't you hear what I said?”

“I heard it,” Akira says, shrugging his shoulders. “It doesn't change anything. We're still coworkers.”

“I know, but-” Ryuji pauses, trying to think his way out of the impossible situation. Akira is, in many ways, absolutely correct. There's no way they could have an inner office romance, at least not without risking their jobs. “We couldn't date? Even if we like, reported it to Kawakami?”

“Reporting it to her would get us both fired. Even if we did it with good intentions.”

“Even if you move up to the third floor? We wouldn't be workin' together then.”

“I'd still be your superior.”

“There's gotta be a way-”

“There's not,” Akira snaps, eyes blazing angrily. “Who says I even wanted to take it that far?!”

“Well, no one,” Ryuji mumbles, taken aback by Akira's suddenly harsh tone. “Look, I haven't dated much. I don't know how it all works. I assumed that if I liked you and you liked me, we'd probably go in that direction.”

“Well, we can't.”

“Yeah, you've made that perfectly clear.”

For once, Ryuji isn't bothered by the silence that follows. He removes some of his ski gear so that he can paste his skin with a new layer of SPF 80. Akira watches him, but he doesn't allow himself to acknowledge it. He's almost finished when a hand appears in his peripheral vision and icy cold fingers brush over his jaw. They trail down to his neck to brush away an errant glob of sunscreen.

“You're going to get frostbite,” Ryuji informs him, his tone solemn.

“I'm fine.” Akira insists, retracting both of his hands into the sleeves of his jacket.

“Let me see.”

“I said I'm fine-”

“Akira, c'mon man, please?” Ryuji reaches between them to grasp hold of Akira's forearms. The muscles tense under his touch, but he doesn't pull away. He works the sleeves back over Akira's hands, exposing them to the air. They've gone nearly white, with a few patchy areas of bright red. Not quite frostbite, but headed in that direction. “Are you stupid?! When did it get like this?”

“I don't know, I hadn't noticed,” Akira admits, looking as surprised as Ryuji.

“We need to warm your hands up,” Ryuji says sternly. He sets to work, removing his own gloves so that he can massage warmth back into Akira's frigid fingers. “You'll need to see a doctor about this once we get back down the mountain. If... We get back down.”

“I'm sorry, I honestly hadn't realized.”

“You probably lost sensation in them. It happens in the early stages.”

“How do you know all this?” Akira asks. He's staring down at their entwined hands, his expression downcast.

“Photography was more like uh, hobby, for my mom. She actually works in a small clinic as a nurse,” Ryuji explains. He lets go of Akira's hands long enough to unzip his own jacket. “Put them in here.”

“...Inside your jacket?”

“Yeah, I'll be able to warm them up faster.”

“I can pull them into my own-”

“No man, you'll only chill yourself more if you do that,” Ryuji sees that he's going to have to take charge of the situation. He grabs hold of Akira's hands and moves them over to rest against his chest, palms flat. Covering them with his own hands he moves closer to Akira, so he doesn't have to strain to hold the position. “Look, I know this is awkward, but I mean it when I said we need to get them warmed up.”

Akira doesn't reply, but it's clear that he's uncomfortable with the arrangement. Ryuji supposes that he should be too, but his mind is far more concerned with making sure that no one loses any fingers.

“Your heart is racing,” Akira reports after a while. His lips quirk at the corner, as if he wants to smirk but isn't allowing himself to.

“Got it workin' overdrive to warm you up,” Ryuji replies cheekily. That time Akira does smile, though it's in the barest of ways. “You gonna act like a wounded animal all day?”

“I'm not.”

“Bro, you're sulking.”

“I am not.”

“Akira,” Ryuji hisses the name through his teeth, feeling his frustration mounting.

“I'm not sulking, I'm tired,” Akira finally admits, his shoulders sagging. “Or burnt out would be a better descriptor for it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I've got so much I've got to do when we get back to Tokyo. Especially with that promotion coming up. It's hard to concentrate on having a good time when I know how much work is waiting for me when I get back.”

“I get that but you can't worry about it for the rest of our trip,” Ryuji insists, giving Akira's hands a gentle squeeze. “What brought that on anyways? You seemed fine until today.”

“I didn't sleep well last night, so I had a lot of time to sit and think about everything. Not only did I take advantage of you, but also the company's time. They didn't send me out here to... Play at dating you.”

“You got some intense emotions, huh?” Ryuji leans over to bump his shoulder against one of Akira's, earning a startled look in reply. “Don't be so hard on yourself all the time. You didn't take advantage of me and you didn't waste company time. You did what you came out here to do, didn't you? You got the deal Kawakami wanted. What more can anyone ask of ya?”

“You could be right,” Akira concedes. “I can't help it. All my life I've struggled with this need to be what people expect for me to be.”

“Why's that?”

“I'm not sure. It is, or was, especially bad regarding my adoptive parents. They took me in and raised me, gave me everything they could and more. I figured I owed it to them to at least live up to their standard for how they thought their son should be.”

“But you moved out,” Ryuji notes. “You don't have to do what they want anymore, right?”

“I moved out for that exact reason, but it's hard to change old habits. I spent my entire life trying to live up to their ideals for me.”

“What did they want?” Ryuji asks in a soft tone. Akira's hands flex against his chest like he wants to pull them away but can't.

“They expected a certain level of perfection,” Akira explains. “If I didn't get the top score in everything, I wasn't trying hard enough. If I didn't participate in the right clubs, I wasn't setting myself up for a good future. If I didn't spend time with the right friends, I was with people who were going to drag me down. So I worked harder to do everything they wanted me to do, and the harder I worked, the more they raised the bar.”

“That's a lot to ask of a kid.”

“It was partly my fault. I was never open with my feelings. I always think that I could have been closer to them had I been more honest, but that chance has come and gone.”

“So what happened? You moved out?”

“Basically,” Akira halfway shrugs his shoulders. His eyes are trained on the mountains in the distance, almost unmoving behind the lenses of his glasses. “After I graduated from high school, they immediately wanted me to start working with my father. Taking over the family business, carrying on the family name, marrying well. It was too much. I left the first chance I got. Ran away really.”

“I would'a too,” Ryuji murmurs. “I know you say you were at fault for tryin' to be perfect, but don't you think they took advantage of you too?”

“Maybe. I had been a vulnerable child, shaped and molded by their desires and my own need to please them. So you could be right about that.”

“Do you still talk to them at all?”

“Not really,” Akira laughs, though the sound is bitter and strained. “Sorry, I don't know why I told you that.”

“I don't mind.”

“You asked about Sojiro, and Futaba,” Akira goes on to say. “They're kind of-... Or they were... My next shot at having a family.”

“Were?”

“It's embarrassing to admit this, but I grew up living a fantasy life. I didn't know how the world worked or how to make my own way. I had never had to survive on my own. The money I brought with me from my parent's house was gone before I knew it and I didn't have a way to make more.”

“Ah, rich boy troubles,” Ryuji jokes and Akira nods with an almost smile. Maybe by accident, or maybe on purpose, he shifts closer. Ryuji can feel the rush of heat move up into his face as his pulse jumps and begins to race. Tentatively Akira rests his head over against one of Ryuji's shoulders. The touch burns his skin. “So you were livin' in Tokyo, penniless and destitute.”

“I wasn't _that_ bad off,” Akira gripes back. “I ended up finding this little back alley café, Le Blanc. The shabbiest place I've ever seen, but the moment I walked in the door, I felt like I was home. I spent my last bit of money on a cup of coffee and struck up a conversation with the man behind the counter, Sojiro. I senselessly told him my life's story and he listened.”

“I think he felt sorry for me because he said I could stay. He had an attic above the café he was willing to rent me in exchange for work. I didn't have any other options, so of course, I jumped on it,” Akira's voice softens. “I met Futaba soon after. Like my parents, her mother had been killed in a car accident. Sojiro was a family friend and he took her in. She and I bonded over that, I guess.”

“Of course ya did, man,” Ryuji encourages. “That's not a bad thing, y'know?”

“We were really happy,” whispers Akira. “Sojiro and Futaba weren't like my adoptive parents. They didn't expect me to be perfect, and they always encouraged me to be myself. I felt like I was a part of a family, rather than an addition to one. After working and living in Le Blanc for two years, Sojiro, and I guess Futaba too, asked me to stay on permanently. Futaba was about to graduate high school and go off to college. Sojiro needed someone to help him manage the café.”

Akira's hands curl into fists against Ryuji's chest. His voice wavers a bit as he admits, “I guess I panicked.”

“Suddenly you had expectations,” Ryuji states, keeping his tone light. He carefully uncurls Akira's hands, smoothing them flat again.

“Yes. For the first time, they were counting on me for something big. I was afraid to say yes because there was still so much of the world I didn't understand. I wasn't sure if I wanted to tie myself to one place. If I said no, then I was certain that I couldn't still be a part of the family we had created. So I took the coward's way out and ran away again. I told Sojiro that I wanted more for myself in life. That if I took over Le Blanc, I wasn't going to amount to anything. Then I left.”

Akira pauses and for a while, all Ryuji can hear is his own breathing. Overhead, the clouds have blocked out the sun, casting a sheen of darkness over them. Wispy flakes of snow begin to swirl around their heads. They melt almost the moment they land on skin, leaving behind tiny droplets of water.

“This kind of weather really sets a depressing mood,” Akira murmurs, sitting upright. He pulls his hands away, flexing his fingers. The color has returned to his skin and his hands are flushed from where Ryuji had been holding them. He reaches out to catch a few snowflakes on his palm, examining the tiny crystals as they break down. “Working at Metaverse, living alone, it was important to me. I had to prove to myself I could stand on my own two feet.”

“What about Futaba? Did she follow you to Metaverse, or...?”

“She graduated from tech college and ended up at the company. She didn't even know I was there until after she had already been hired.”

“You two seem to be on good terms now.”

“We talk. We'll never be as close as we once were.”

“You could go back you know,” Ryuji murmurs. “I don't know Sojiro, and I barely know Futaba, but I think they'd forgive you.”

“I can't go back,” Akira's voice is so pained that Ryuji can hardly stand it. It makes his skin crawl with discomfort, especially because he knows there's nothing he can do to fix it. Akira takes a deep breath and it rattles his lungs, a pathetic sound. “I'll be fine. Whatever I'm feeling now will pass. I'll go home, get my promotion, and be fine.”

“You tellin' me, or yourself?” Ryuji asks critically. Akira turns his face up to stare at him, looking at a loss.

“I'll be fine,” he repeats, voice edged with frustration. “Let's drop the subject.”

“You can't tell me all that shit and then expect me to drop it.”

“I wasn't looking for feedback.”

“I know you weren't, but don't you think you're kinda… Settling?” Ryuji snaps back, glowering at Akira. “Metaverse, your parents, it's all the same damn thing. If you take that promotion, you're doin' what everyone expects of you. What _you_ expect of you, rather than what you really want to do.”

“What I'm expecting of myself?” Akira questions, eyebrows raising slightly. “I don't... Understand that.”

“I always felt like you were fake and I finally get why,” Ryuji rushes on to explain. “Being everyone's favorite, being fun, always getting the best assignments. It's like you're playing a role in some movie. You're not actin' for everyone else's sake, you're actin' for your own sake.”

“I guess that could be true.”

“You did what you had to do. You went out into the world, took care of yourself, proved that you could do it. You don't gotta force yourself to keep movin' up in a career you don't have any passion for.”

“I'm good at this job,” Akira says stiffly. “I'm good at it and I've worked hard to get where I am. How can I throw that away?”

“You don't throw it away, you move on,” Ryuji presses. “You still got time to make things right with Sojiro and Futaba.”

“I told you, I can't go back.”

“So make a U-turn! I don't know how else to explain it!”

“If I throw everything away to go back, and it doesn't work out, then where does that leave me?” Akira wonders. “It's not as easy as you seem to think it is.”

“'Cept it is. I can hear it in your voice, how much you want to be a part of their lives again. So go for it.”

Akira doesn't reply. Ryuji is butting into business that isn't his, but he can't help himself. Akira is a mystery, and in many ways still a stranger to him, but he's already in too deep. Even if he tried, he couldn't stop himself from caring and worrying.

“Damn,” Ryuji hisses, crossing his arms over his chest. His heart is still racing, and he wonders offhand when it's going to return to normal. “I really did break all the rules, didn't I?”

“I broke most of them too,” Akira admits with a low rumble of laughter. “Your first instinct about this place was right, it is a romantic atmosphere. It would be easy to sell resort packages to couples with that angle. Ann should watch herself, you might take her job from her.”

“No way man, it's not like that at all.”

“You're more charming than you realize.”

“It ain't like that,” Ryuji sighs as he runs a hand back through his hair, mussing up the bleach dried spikes. “Here, I have somethin' I want to give ya.”

“Something... For me?”

“I wanted to give 'em to you sooner, but there was never a good time,” Ryuji explains shyly. He fishes through his pockets for the box and passes it over before he can change his mind. Akira glances at him, his eyes bright with surprise. “It's more suiting to give them to you on Christmas anyways.”

With stiff fingers, Akira lifts the lid off of the box, revealing the leather gloves inside. He looks at them for a few moments, then over at Ryuji. The silk thin threads he's had wrapped around his emotions seem to snap. All at once Akira's eyes glass over. He takes in a deep breath of air, then does it again for good measure. Ryuji wasn't expecting such a strong reaction. He isn't sure what to do, so he flops one of his arms up over Akira's shoulders to pull him into an awkward side hug. Akira leans into Ryuji's hug and spends a long while in silence.

“Thank you,” he says when he's finally regained his composure.

“Put 'em on before your hands freeze again,” Ryuji says gruffly, though it's all an act to hide his embarrassment. He's never given a gift like this before. Akira picks them up and carefully works them down over his hands. As expected, they fit him well and it's an attractive sight. “I guess red is sorta... Bright. I should have looked for black or something.”

“No, I like them. I like red.”

“Merry Christmas.”

“I have something for you too,” Akira says abruptly, sitting up straighter in the chair. He pulls his phone from his pocket and hands it off to Ryuji. “I don't think I can operate the screen with gloves on. The passcode is 7585. Open it up and then go to my email app.”

“Wha-... Okay?” Ryuji types in the code and the screen unlocks. He taps to open the email application. “What now?”

“It's the second email from the top. Open it.”

Ryuji glances sideways at Akira but does what he's asked. He's greeted by a confirmation email that lists a travel itinerary for a bullet train going out of Tokyo. The date is set for the 29th of December, four days away.

“Oh, you goin' somewhere?” Ryuji wonders as he scrolls further down in the email, surprised to see a location he recognizes. “You're goin' to my hometown?”

“No, you are,” Akira says with a broad smile. “Ryuji, I bought you a ticket to go see your mom for New Year's. Ann helped me arrange it, so I can't take all the credit, but-”

Before Ryuji can even process this information, there's a loud squeal of metal. The lift jerks and then begins moving. Both of them jolt in surprise and Ryuji almost drops the phone. Akira hisses in discomfort. As if it had never stopped at all, the lift takes them unceremoniously the rest of the way up the mountain. Once there, they're 'helped' off the lift by the waiting ski patrol officers.

Ryuji's legs are weak from sitting for so long, and the one attached to his snowboard is stiff. Both he and Akira hobble away from the lift and over to rest under the shade of a tall conifer tree. It's only then that Ryuji has time to process the exact nature of Akira's gift to him.

“I don't know what to say,” He admits. They've unstrapped from their boards and are sitting down atop them in the snow, trying to decide what to do next.

“You don't have to say anything,” Akira supplies, shrugging his shoulders. “It's not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” Ryuji insists. “This is a huge gift! I-... Thank you. I'm real happy.”

“I'm happy too,” Akira says as he holds his hands out in front of himself, admiring his gloves. He turns his head to smile at Ryuji, his face glowing. It's easily the best site Ryuji's seen all day, and he wishes he could capture it with his camera. Oh well, his memory will have to be good enough. “Not to ruin the mood, but how are we going to get back down?”

“Are you up to boarding? Your hands are feelin' better, right?”

“They are, thanks to you. I'm okay to board if you are.”

“Probably best if we make this the last run,” Ryuji suggests. He indicates his head towards Akira's hands. “We have to get those checked out.”

“Agreed.”

Despite forming a plan, neither one of them makes a move to execute it. They both stare wordlessly up at the sky. The clouds have finally moved on and the sun is shining at full strength again. Snow fractals glitter all around them, on the ground and on the trees. Ryuji takes his camera out of the bag to snap a few photos. They're up so high that the view of the mountains is nothing if not breathtaking. It's a perfect photography opportunity.

“Ryuji,” Akira calls out to him mid-shutter. He spares a slight glance over his shoulder.

“One second, the lighting is really good,” Ryuji says, returning to the viewfinder. Satisfied, he stows his camera away and returns to sitting atop his snowboard. When he finally looks up, Akira is nearly glaring at him. “What?”

Instead of answering, Akira catches hold of his face and leans in for a kiss.

“What're you doing?” Ryuji asks in a whisper. They're close now, sharing breathing space. “You don't have to-”

“I want to,” Akira says, blunt as ever. “Is it okay?”

“Yeah.”

Under the shade of an evergreen tree, Akira kisses him until they're both out of breath.

“What about the rules?” He wonders when they finally break apart.

Akira looks at him through uncertain eyes as he asks, “Can we forget about them for now? Until the end of the trip?”

“Of course, man. You should have just said so.”

“I don't know what we'll do when we get back, but for now, I want to enjoy the time we have left.”

“Me too,” Ryuji says. “We can worry about the rest later.”

Akira smiles, softly at first until it morphs into something more mischievous.

“Race you to the bottom,” Akira leers, standing up so that he can strap into his board's bindings.

“Better watch your back,” Ryuji warns playfully. “I conquered the bunny hill.”

“Ooooh, I'm scared.”

“You should be-”

Before Ryuji can finish, Akira jumps to change the angle of his board and begins sailing off without him.

“Oi! That's cheatin'!” Ryuji yells, rushing to get to his feet.

In the end, Akira beats him, but Ryuji can't find it in himself to be mad about it. In fact, he's decided he kind of likes the idea of chasing after someone.

* * *

Before heading back to the shuttle station, the two of them stop by a small clinic to get Akira's hands seen. It's no small miracle that Akira is so good at speaking English. The conversation with the office staff is long-winded. The wait to be seen, on the other hand, is short. Akira is lead away by one of the nurses.

Ryuji waits anxiously for his return, flipping sightlessly through a magazine. He starts bobbing his right leg, a nervous reaction he's never been able to control. It seems to annoy the woman behind the check-in desk. She keeps raising her eyes up from her work to glare at him. He ignores her in favor of grabbing a second magazine, then a third.

Ryuji's mind begins to spin with panic. Akira's hands probably have to be removed. He probably lost two, no, three fingers. Maybe if Ryuji had given the gloves sooner, the whole ordeal could have been avoided-

“I'll be okay,” Akira's sudden reappearance causes Ryuji to jump. The magazine pile in his lap slides off onto the floor, flapping noisily.

“That's great!” Ryuji says, stooping down to gather the magazines. He bumps heads with Akira who had bent to do the same. “Shit, sorry.”

“You're nervous all of a sudden.”

“I was worried.”

“Worried,” Akira repeats like he's uncertain of the word's meaning. He slips his hands under the magazines, offering them deftly back to Ryuji. “Is it weird if I tell you that I'm... Flattered by that?”

“No way man. It's cool.” Ryuji blubbers. He returns the magazines to their side table, making sure to straighten the edges of them. “I would have felt real bad if there had been damage. I should have given you those gloves sooner.”

“It's not your fault. I was the one who was being stubborn about buying something better.”

“Why was that, anyways?”

Akira averts his eyes, “We got into a fight outside that shop. I didn't want to have to go back there because I worried it would remind you.”

“And to think, I thought you were Mr. Confidence,” Ryuji teases gently. “You played it cool when we were at the office, but now that I have you alone I see how big of a dork you are.”

“No more than you.”

“You're prob'ly right,” Ryuji shrugs and moves towards the door. “So what did the doc say?”

“There shouldn't be any long term damage. I need to avoid exposure to cold. Obviously, I should wear gloves when I go out,” Akira says. He follows Ryuji out of the clinic, bumping shoulders with him as they both try to go out the door at the same time. Laughing, he says, “You first.”

“Nah man, you.”

“Ladies first.”

“Then that definitely means you.”

“I'm going to take that as a compliment,” Akira decides, strolling outside. “You can't make fun of someone if they spin it into something they're proud of.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ryuji says with a soft snort of amusement. “Put your gloves on like the doc ordered.”

“Are you my mother now?”

“Nah, but I did spend all that money on them. So you better use them.”

“In all seriousness, thank you,” Akira tells him, clapping Ryuji firmly on the shoulder. He puts the gloves on, pausing for a split-second to admire them again. “They're perfect.”

“I'm glad you like them,” Ryuji mutters, halfway stumbling over the words.

They hoist their boards up and make for the bus stop. It's only mid-afternoon, but the sun is already going down. The vast height of the mountains is causing an early sunset. Ryuji glances at Akira, struck by the way he looks in the dim lighting. Orange and pink hues color his skin and his eyes look almost gold. It's too fantastic of a sight not to take a photo. “We have a few minutes before the shuttle shows up. Can I take a couple more pictures?”

“Sure, I don't mind,” Akira sets their boards down on a bench while Ryuji fishes his camera out.

“Come over here and stand by me.”

“Are you trying to sneak photos of me again, Sakamoto~? That's not very professional.”

Ryuji rolls his eyes, but he's smiling, “Get over here.”

Akira listens the second time, moving to stand by Ryuji's side. It's not the best angle in the world, but Ryuji's arms are at least long enough to make it work. He leans in close, checking their composition in the reflection made by the camera's lens.

“Smile, okay?” Ryuji prompts. Akira glances at him and the moment their eyes meet, he does smile. It looks so effortless that it steals Ryuji's breath away. His fingers press down on the shutter without thinking. “You gotta look at the camera-”

“Let me see,” Akira reaches over and nimbly plucks the camera out of Ryuji's hands. He grins impishly as he checks the photo out on the camera's back viewscreen.

“Hey! Give it back! I wasn't ready and neither were you!”

“You've got the cutest look on your face.”

“Seriously man,” Ryuji insists, his voice bordering on desperate. He doesn't know what kind of face he's making, but he's certain it's an embarrassing one. He reaches for his camera, but Akira spins away from him and steps forward a few paces. They're standing on a slick patch of slushy snow, it would be foolhardy to fight over the device. Moreso if it were to drop and break. So Ryuji waits anxiously for Akira to give it back. “Why're you starin' at it?”

“Can I have a copy of this?” Akira asks as he glances up. He finally offers the camera back, though there's hesitation in his movements. “If that's too weird, you don't have to give me one, but-”

“I don't mind,” Finally Ryuji can see what caught Akira's attention. It's a silly photo to be sure, neither one of them are looking properly at the camera. However, framed by the sun and staring so intently at one another, they look like a real couple. Two people caught in a happy moment, forever serialized in a photograph. “Y'know, I don't usually take many photos of people. I'm better at landscapes and buildings. This one is definitely one of my better portraits.”

“I think so too. Although, you did take a lot of photos of me.”

“Wha-... I told you, I was taking photos of the things behind you.”

“Then why am I at the very center of all the photos?” Akira grins, a flash of perfect teeth.

“Wait, when did you even see those photos?” Ryuji asks him in a suspicious voice.

“You left your camera on the table back at the hotel, so I took a peek at them.”

Shock and embarrassment flood Ryuji's veins, but before he can react the bus pulls into view. The two of them rush to gather themselves together and to pick up their bags and boards. Once the bus is clear of passengers getting off, Akira and Ryuji are the only ones who get on.

“Oi, my camera is private you know,” Ryuji scolds once they've settled in.

“Oh yeah?” Akira asks in a smooth voice. He leans in closer to Ryuji to speak low and hushed into his ear. “Do you use it to take dirty pictures?”

Ryuji exhales in shock and disbelief, “What the hell?! No!”

“That's disappointing.”

“It's a work camera!”

“So does that mean you have a private one? Or a personal SD card-”

“Don't go there man,” Ryuji warns. “You're such a weirdo.”

“I get that a lot,” Akira chuckles. “Sorry, I didn't mean to make fun of you.”

“Nah, it's all good. I like it when we joke around. When we get back to Tokyo, we should hang out more often,” Ryuji suggests. Akira's eyes flick towards him, his expression uncertain.

“As friends,” He says more than asks.

Ryuji tries not to let his disappointment show, “Yeah, of course. As friends.”

“If that's the case, then we definitely can.”

It's a little disheartening, but Ryuji is willing to put it to the side for the moment. He insisted they spend the rest of the trip in a good mood, and he determined to see that through.

Once they're back at the resort, they pay another visit to Moose's Mountain Supplies. It's time to return their snowboards and gear. Ryuji is reluctant to part with his board, but there's no reason for him to keep it. To say nothing of the hassle it would be to drag it all the way back to Japan. He settles instead for taking a few photographs of it, and of Akira's, for memory's sake.

They decide to have dinner at the steakhouse again, though this time the sans wine. Akira's earlier words of 'you were drunk' still sit heavy inside Ryuji's heart. He's determined not to allow anything to influence his choices for the rest of the evening. There's a crackle of excitement brewing in the air, and whatever that leads to, he wants to be sober enough to enjoy it.

“I always get a little...anxious at the end of a good trip,” Ryuji says. The two of them are picking apart a small loaf of bread as they wait for their meals to arrive. It's set atop a small cutting board, with a knife and a small dish of butter. Occasionally they brush fingers, both reaching for the knife at the same time. It sends a spark up the entire length of Ryuji's arm. Like a tic or a habit, he can't help glancing up each time to try to read Akira's expression.

“Me too,” Akira agrees. This time he brushes his fingers against Ryuji's hand on purpose, bypassing the knife completely. He lazily traces a fingertip over Ryuji's knuckles and the veins that branch off from them. Ryuji's skin prickles with goosebumps, and he shyly draws away. “Sorry. Do you not like that sort of thing?”

“I don't dislike it. It's ticklish?”

“A tickling fetish,” Akira deadpans.

“I swear to god man,” Ryuji huffs, half in annoyance and half in laughter. “You say the weirdest stuff.”

“You didn't deny it,” Akira shoots back. He cuts himself a piece of bread, and he leans back in his chair, looking smug as takes a bite. Before Ryuji can defend himself, the waitress appears with their food. The faux-argument is forgotten.

“I'm gonna miss all this Western food when we go back,” Ryuji sighs, cutting into his steak. “Though I don't mind cookin' for myself. Ann, Shiho, 'n me do dinner a couple at my place a couple of times a month. You should join us.”

“Really?” Akira nearly sets his utensils down in surprise, gazing across the table at Ryuji with wide eyes. “Thank you. I'd like that.”

“Don't get so flustered over a meal, jeeze.”

“It's been a long time since anyone's invited me over to their place for dinner. Not since I left Le Blanc.”

“What?” Ryuji frowns. “I always assumed that you had tons of friends outside of work. Or office buddies.”

“I have friendly coworkers I go drinking with sometimes,” Akira explains. “But I've never been invited over by any of them.”

“In that case, come to my place whenever you want. I always cook a lot of food and end up with leftovers.”

“Do you like curry?”

“Yeah, I like curry,” Ryuji hides his smile behind a sip of water. Akira has so many unexpected sides to him, it's hard to keep up.

“It was a specialty at Le Blanc. We can make it together sometime,” Akira says, voice bright with happiness.

“Of course we can,” Ryuji tells him. “When all this is over, we'll hang out.”

* * *

**Akira**

A light snowfall drifts through the air as Akira and Ryuji walk back up the hill to their hotel.

They avoided alcohol during dinner, but Akira feels as if his mind is buzzed anyway. Only one night left and he's determined to enjoy as much of it as he can. He flexes his hands inside the gloves Ryuji gave him, still surprised to have received a gift. He doesn't feel like he deserves it, but he's trying his best to be positive minded.

“You like them, huh?” Ryuji asks, noticing Akira staring down at his glove clad hands. They're in the elevator now, headed up to their room.

“I do,” Akira tells him earnestly. “I'll take good care of them.”

“I know you will.”

The elevator doors open, and they step out together to head down the hallway. As they approach their room, Akira's heart begins to race. There's been something he's wanted to ask Ryuji all evening, but he hasn't quite mustered up the courage yet. His window of opportunity is steadily closing.

“Ryuji,” He begins in a slow and uncertain voice. It's not like him to be so shy about expressing when he wants something, but Ryuji is-... Important. Akira isn't sure what that means for the moment, or what it could mean in the future, if anything. They still have to return to work and resume the lives they had before. Akira doesn't have the expectation that they're going to become a couple and live happily ever after. Especially not with his promotion looming in the not so distant future.

 _I've buried my feelings before, I can do it again._ Akira thinks.

“Yeah?” Ryuji wonders in a light voice, brown eyes wide with curiosity. It takes a moment for Akira to realize that Ryuji's been waiting for him to say more. “You okay?”

“Sorry, I got distracted,” Akira tells him, fishing around inside his pocket for their room card. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Sure, whatever you want.”

“Once we're inside,” Akira makes a sweeping motion with his hand, allowing Ryuji to go in first.

They linger in the doorway, shedding out of their outer layers. Akira collects both of their coats to hang them up inside the closet. Ryuji kicks off his shoes and sighs as he moves further into the room. Akira removes his gloves and tucks them into the pocket of his jacket for safekeeping. His hands feel naked without them.

“You want some tea or somethin'?” Ryuji calls over his shoulder.

“Actually, I'm going to go shower first if that's alright,” Akira says as he steps into the living room.

“Sure. You go ahead, I gotta call my mom about New Years.” Ryuji turns to smile at Akira. “Thank you.”

“Of course, I'm glad I could give you something nice,” Akira turns his face away, just in case he's blushing. It's hard to keep his well-trained composure in check around Ryuji. Especially tonight, when his heart is so full of affection for the other man. He excuses himself to the bathroom. He pauses in the doorway, able to hear Ryuji's excited voice coming from the other room.

“Yeah! I'm gonna come out for New Years!” Ryuji exclaims to his mother. “This uh, real good friend of mine bought me tickets to come to see ya. Huh? Oh... Um... Well, it's Akira. Akira Kurusu.”

Akira doesn't mean to be nosy, but he can't help himself. He leans against the doorway to keep listening.

“...I know I complained about him a lot before, but after comin' on this trip? He's... He's a good person. I was wrong about him.”

A good person. Akira ponders on that. Is he a good person? Is that the impression Ryuji has of him?

“I'm trying to be,” Akira murmurs to himself. His heart thumps steadily inside his chest and for a moment he...doubts. He ducks back into the bathroom and closes the door. His reflection stares at him from inside the bathroom mirror. It almost looks as if it's scoffing at him. 'A good person? Hardly.'

Akira can feel his walls trying to go back up, to protect him from the truth. Sure, he might be feeling hopeful right now, but once he and Ryuji return to Tokyo, everything will change. Akira will get his promotion, and removed from Ryuji's proximity, he'll have no reason to keep their relationship going.

But there's a part of him, he knows, that longs for the relationship they could have. Friendship, maybe something more, it seems both in reach and out of reach. His fingers brush the surface of it, but he can't get a true hold.

 _For tonight,_ Akira thinks to himself, _let me be selfish one more time._

* * *

“Hey man, I heard the water turn off, so I got your tea started,” Ryuji informs him as he enters the living room.

“Thank you,” Akira says as he takes up his usual place at the table.

“My mom is real excited about me comin' out to see her. It's like Christmas never happened. She's already talkin' about poundin' New Year's mochi and visiting shrines.”

“You guys do that? Pound mochi?”

“Oh yeah! It's a Sakamoto family tradition y'know! It's kinda silly I guess, but we both 'pound' out all the bad stuff from the year before. That way the New Year can be a clean slate.”

“It doesn't sound silly at all,” Akira tells him with a smile. “Maybe I'll give it a try.”

“So, uh, are you off to bed or-” Ryuji trails off, eyes averted and cheeks flushed. “If you're not too tired, maybe we can stay up and talk a bit more?”

“I'm fine to stay up. Why don't you go ahead and shower? I'll wait here.”

“Sure thing, just don't fall asleep.”

“I won't.”

“Oh,” Ryuji pauses on his way into the bedroom to glance back at Akira. “What did you want to ask me earlier?”

“After you shower, I'll ask.”

Ryuji raises his eyebrows, but he doesn't press the issue. “Okay, I'll be right back.”

Akira waits until he hears the water start up before allowing his shoulders to sag. His mood hasn't improved. Whatever happy daze he had been in during and after dinner is long gone. Reality has crept back up on him. Their time is limited and every passing minute seems to be slipping away. He checks the clock on the wall, it's nearing eleven. They both have to be up early in the morning for the commute back down the mountain. Then the trip home right after that. How late can they reasonably stay up?

He takes a drink of his tea and tries his best to relax.

“Sorry that took so long. Did you fall asleep?”

Akira's head jerks up in surprise, as he realizes, yes, he did in fact, doze off. He rubs his eyes and sits up a bit straighter in his chair.

“Maybe we should turn in?” Ryuji suggests, eyeing Akira with a pitying expression. “You look beat.”

“I'm okay,” Akira insists. He glances at the clock and then back to Ryuji. “If you're up to it, stay up with me for a while.”

“You gotta drive us to the airport and all tomorrow. You need to rest.”

“What I wanted to ask before,” Akira says, pressing on despite Ryuji's protests. “Will you sleep with me?”

A long bout of silence passes, in which Ryuji's face turns red and his expression becomes disbelieving. Akira's mind is slow with exhaustion and it takes him a moment to realize the implication of his own words.

“Sorry, I don't mean that how it sounded,” Akira rushes on to say. “I meant more of, will you sleep in my bed with me. It feels unfair of me to make you sleep on the couch again and... I'd like the company.”

He isn't sure if his explanation helps because Ryuji turns away to place both of his hands over his face.

“Ryuji?”

“Yeah, I got it,” He says, voice muffled. “I don't mind, but uh, are you sure? I'm surprised that you would ask for that.”

“If it's too weird, you don't have to,” Akira says softly. “I thought it might be nice. If that's overstepping your boundaries, I understand.”

“I want to.”

He wants to.

“Okay,” Akira says, rising quickly from his seat. “Um, let's go to the bedroom then.”

“Sure thing,” Ryuji turns around in the doorway of the room to walk back inside. Akira joins him and the two of them stand together at the foot of the bed. There's a feeling of trepidation as if there's some kind of unknown barrier they have to find a way around. Ryuji laughs suddenly and hooks an elbow out to jab Akira in the side. “Jeeze man, look at us. We're both so nervous over somethin' like this? It's so dumb.”

“I'm not nervous,” Akira shoots back, even though it's a straight-up lie. “It's not as if we're some newlywed couple on our wedding night.”

“We're totally not that.”

“So then, let's get in bed.”

“You first,” Ryuji insists, setting a light hand on Akira's shoulder. He doesn't mean to, but he jumps. “Hey, relax-”

“I'm fine,” Akira pulls away from him and moves to the left side of the bed. He discards the hotel's pillows, replaced by the housekeeping, in favor of using the one he brought with him. He adjusts its angle until he's satisfied.

“I think it's real cute that you gotta bring your own pillow.”

“You've got weird kinks.”

“You're impossible,” Ryuji snorts, moving over to the opposite side. The bed dips as he climbs into it, settling himself a mere foot away. “You want the lights on, or off?”

“Off please,” Akira turns to face Ryuji. “You can move a little closer, you know. I don't bite.”

“I get the feeling that you _do_ bite.”

“Well, maybe a little.”

“That's what I thought,” Ryuji laughs, leaning over to switch off the lights. Carefully he edges closer to Akira, as if there's still a bit of uncertainty there. “So what now? You said you wanted to stay up a while to talk, but here we are in bed.”

Akira sucks in an unsteady breath, “Can I kiss you?”

There's a long stretch of silence, and then in a soft voice Ryuji replies with, “Yeah, you can kiss me.”

Akira wastes no time, determined not to lose his nerve. He closes the distance between them to catch Ryuji's face between his hands. He pulls him down into a slow kiss. Akira thought this the night before but Ryuji seems to have some experience. His kissing skills are exceptionally good. He knows how to angle his head and the right moments to breathe.

Akira tries not to think about the 'why' behind that and instead puts more of his attention on keeping up.

It's different from when they were in the hot tub, Akira notes. Ryuji's movement and actions are much more relaxed. He's no longer teeming with the previous night's desperation. Akira for his part no longer carries the same aggressive tension in his shoulders. He's not counting down the seconds until Ryuji realizes the truth of what they're doing. He's no longer waiting for the other shoe to drop. Akira is allowing himself to be swept away. His mind is blissfully empty of everything but pleasure.

Ryuji hooks a hand around the back of Akira's head to deepen the kiss. It's good. It's so good. Akira leans into it, his eyes shut and his body boneless. Ryuji rolls him over onto his back and presses him bodily against the mattress. Akira's mouth opens on a soft gasp of surprise. Ryuji's tongue presses against his and it sends a jolt of excitement down his spine. It's too much, too fast. Akira knows he has to put a stop to things before they get out of hand.

“R'ji,” Akira says as he ducks out of their kiss. He presses a soft and gentle hand against Ryuji's chest, admiring the fast pace of his heartbeat. “We can't.”

“I-... I know, I'm sorry,” Ryuji whispers back. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be sorry. I liked it.”

“Y'did?”

“Of course,” Akira puffs out a soft breath of laughter. Ryuji leans down to press their foreheads together, breathing deeply to calm himself. Akira reaches up to brush his fingers along the side of Ryuji's face, waiting patiently. “You okay there, big guy?”

“Shut up,” Ryuji huffs around a laugh. “I'm fine. I just like what you're doin' with your hands.”

“What? Oh, stroking your face?”

“Your hands are cold, so it feels nice.”

“Well, at least they're useful,” Akira remarks in a low voice. He presses his palm flat against the side of Ryuji's face. “You're so cute.”

“I ain't that,” Ryuji mumbles as he nuzzles his face deeper into Akira's palm.

“You are.”

“We gotta get some sleep,” Ryuji draws away to return to his side of the bed, but he doesn't go far. Laying on his side, he wriggles up next to Akira to become the perfect 'big spoon'.

“I want to know more about you,” Akira insists, tucking his body closer to Ryuji's. “You got to hear my backstory, so now I'm demanding you tell me yours.”

“It's borin' as hell, man. Why would you want that?”

“Please?”

“Ugh, I can try,” Ryuji grumbles. Akira presses the side of his face against Ryuji's chest, listening to the low sound of his voice. “Grew up in some Podunk town in the middle of nowhere. Everyone knew everyone. The sorta place you read about in books or see on TV. Life there is slow, nothin' changes day to day.”

“It doesn't sound so bad.”

“I was so damn bored all the time! Ann 'n me used to get into a lot of trouble. Her parents weren't around much when she was growin' up, so she spent a lot of time at my house. At least until my dad got real bad with his drinking.”

“I think I told you before, but my dad was a drunk,” Ryuji sighs. Perhaps unconsciously, he hooks an arm around Akira's back to pull him a bit closer. “Used to rough my mom 'n me up. Was a real asshole, even when he wasn't two or three bottles deep.”

“Speaking of,” Akira interrupts in a soft voice. “I'm sorry for what I said this morning. I shouldn't have called you a drunk.”

“Nah, it's fine. I mean, you were only sayin' the truth.”

“I should have never encouraged it.”

“It's not you,” Ryuji sighs. “For a long time, I didn't drink at all. I was worried if I did, even a little, I'd end up like my dad. Then I kind of got over it in college. Learned my limits, more or less. I at least know that I'm not a, uh, angry drunk.”

“...You're a horny drunk, aren't you?”

“Wha-... No! What the hell?!”

“Oh yeah? Then what are you?” Akira goads, hoping it will lighten Ryuji's mood a bit.

“At my worst, I'm mostly just...” Ryuji trails off, sounding embarrassed. “Affectionate?”

“An affectionate drunk.”

“I start kissin' everyone and telling them how much I love them.”

“I'm actually disappointed that I didn't get to see that,” Akira murmurs, his voice edged with amusement. “You were so gloomy last night, I didn't get to see that side of you come out.”

“Hopefully you never get to see it,” Ryuji sighs, sounding very put upon. “I just don't want you to think I drink a lot on the regular. I don't. Last night I made a mistake. I'm sorry if I forced you to do something you didn't want to do.”

“What? When did you do that?”

“Well, when I kissed you.”

“I kissed you back,” Akira says evenly. “Is that what you've been thinking this whole time? That you... Forced yourself on me or something?”

“Kinda.”

“Hey,” Akira reaches a hand up to cup the side of Ryuji's face, leaning back so that they can look at each other in the eye. “No. Don't think that. I wanted to kiss you too, but I was also worried about the fact that we're, you know, coworkers. If anything, I felt like I was the one who took advantage.”

“Y'didn't,” Ryuji tells him. “Looks like we were both worried for nothing.”

“Don't think this gets you off the hook with telling me about yourself. I want you to keep going.”

“Aren't you tired?”

“A little, but that's fine.”

“For real. There's not much more to tell,” Ryuji says.

“You ran track in college, didn't you?” Akira prompts. “So what was your event?”

“Well, uh, I did a lot of group relays. My main was cross-country.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Akira muses, then lowers his voice to say, “You've got the legs for it.”

“Are you tryin' to get yourself in trouble?” Ryuji asks in a stern voice. “I started doing track back in high school. Ann was tryin' out modeling and Shiho was into volleyball. I needed somethin' to keep myself busy. So I joined the track team.”

“And you fell in love with it,” Akira finishes for Ryuji.

“Yeah, I did. I probably would have done it forever if I hadn't screwed up my knee.”

“I'm sorry... That must have been hard.”

“It was at first,” Ryuji says in a soft voice. “But I'm also kinda glad. I really like the work I do now. I wouldn't have gotten to work for Metaverse if I had stayed doing track.”

“Your passion for it shows in your photos,” Akira whispers. “That's actually what made me notice you. Your photos caught my attention.”

“I'm still pretty amateur.”

“No, Ryuji. You're not. You're a really good photographer. You could have a great career if you stick to it.”

“And you could be a real good driver. If you go to sleep right away,” Ryuji snorts, his lips curving up at the corners. Akira can barely see it, the room is so dim. “It's almost two in the morning. You need to go to sleep.”

“I know,” Akira whispers. “I don't want tonight to end.”

“Me either, but the sun's gonna come up sometime. Whether we like it or not.”

“Fine. You have a point.”

“Get some sleep,” Ryuji says gently. “I'll stay here with you.”

“Okay.”

Akira doesn't sleep. At least not for a while. He lays very still and listens for the moment when Ryuji's breathing deepens. For all his insisting that Akira was the one who needed sleep, it doesn't take long for him to doze off himself. Akira stays up to enjoy the close comfort that comes from having Ryuji's arms wrapped around him. He wants to memorize the feeling of it, certain that he'll never get to experience it again.

The clock on the nightstand reads 3:27 am.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will these two find a happy ending?! Stay tuned!


	6. New Years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am soooooooooooo sorry it took me so long to update this. Between the virus, my job drama, and just personal emotions, things have once again been a little rough for me. Thank you to everyone who waited patiently for this fic to update! Christmas is long over, as is New Years, but I hope this story still gives you a bit of that holiday magic! To all my readers, old and new, please stay safe and healthy! ❤️

**Ryuji**

The trek down the mountain, and the brief flight after, are both uneventful affairs. They arrive at LAX on time for their second flight, only to find that it's been delayed.

“Guess we're gonna have to kill some time,” Ryuji says when Akira breaks the news to him. “We could walk around and look at some gift shops.”

“Sounds good,” Akira agrees with a shrug. He's been noticeably quiet since they left the resort. Ryuji can't decide if it's from exhaustion or an attempt to put some distance between them. Probably both, but he can't help holding out that it's not the latter.

“Or we could try to find a cafe. You look like you could use some coffee.”

Akira smiles witheringly, “I won't say no to coffee.”

They backtrack through the terminal, stopping at the first coffee joint they find. It's not the five-star dining that they had back at the resort, but it seems to meet Akira's standards. At the back of the cafe, they find a table by a window overlooking the tarmac. Ryuji watches the planes as they move about, preparing for a takeoff or coming in from a landing. Akira sits across from him, as still and unmoving as a painting.

“Do you regret it?” Ryuji asks, unable to stand the silence. “What we did.”

Akira's eyes lift their focus from the table to stare at him. They hold for a fraction of a second before flicking away. “No.”

“I don't either. So what's wrong?”

“It's not as if I'm sitting here pitying myself, or you,” Akira begins in a low tone. “I'm trying to sort things out in my head. Boxes that I can file away as needed.”

“So that's it then?” Ryuji wonders. He returns to watching the planes. “Our time together gets put away in a little box and shoved to the back of your mind.”

“I'm not putting it all at the back of my mind,” Akira says evenly. His eyebrows draw together, and he absently begins stirring his coffee. “I'll be happy to have the memories. That's what no regrets means, right?”

“Sure, I guess so.”

“So don't make this harder by asking questions.”

Ryuji bristles, “I'm not trying to make this harder-”

“I'm going to get something to eat,” Akira says, rising abruptly from his seat. Before he can go two steps his body lurches to the side. He throws out a hand to catch himself on the edge of another table.

“Whoa, you okay?” Ryuji moves to stand at his side, offering support as needed. “You dizzy?”

“A little bit.”

“C'mere,” Ryuji takes hold of Akira's shoulders to steer him back over to their table. Once he's safely seated, Ryuji reaches up to feel his forehead. “You've got a fever.”

“I'm just tired from all the traveling,” Akira protests, pulling away from Ryuji's touch.

“Tired my ass,” Ryuji scoffs. “I'm going to get you some water and a-a scone or something. After you eat, I've got some aspirin in my bag. You're gonna take some.”

“Aye, aye, captain.”

“Oi, it ain't funny. You should have told me sooner.”

“I'd rather have a bagel than a scone.”

“Fine,” Ryuji sighs in exasperation. “Bagel, water, aspirin. Maybe a nap.”

“As if I could sleep in a place like this,” Akira grumbles, though it's mostly for his own benefit.

“Toasted?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Watching Akira eat the bagel is nothing short of torturous. He doesn't bother putting any kind of topping or spread on it, which is abhorrent enough by itself. The worst is when he begins cutting it into tiny pieces with a fork and knife, instead of using his hands.

“Let me guess,” Ryuji begins. “Airport germs?”

Akira glances at him with a sheepish expression as he nods his head. “Something like that.”

“Jeeze, man. You germaphobic?”

“In a way,” Akira explains, cutting off another bite-sized piece of bagel. The cheap plasticware scrapes over the toasted surface and the sound makes Ryuji's skin crawl. “It's less about fear and more about control.”

“Mr. Control Freak,” Ryuji teases with a small smile. “I kind of get it though. There's comfort in knowing you have power over something.”

“You're so,” Akira waves his fork, a pantomime of Ryuji's usual method of gesturing. “You understand me better than I understand myself sometimes.”

“For real?” Ryuji wonders with a slight cock of his head. “Is it a good thing or a bad thing for you?”

Unexpectedly, Akira laughs. The sound is clear and alluring. “I guess it depends on the subject matter. You seem to have a strong sense of empathy.”

“Or that fever is makin' your head think funny thoughts.”

They fall into another companionable silence, the day's earlier tension exhausted. Akira finishes off his meal and then dutifully takes the aspirin that Ryuji offers him. They remain at the cafe long enough to have another round of drinks. Then it's back to gate B23 to await any changes to their delayed flight.

Three hours pass by before they're finally allowed to board. Akira, still addled from his fever, dozes off as the plane reaches max altitude. With his head resting heavily on Ryuji's shoulder, he sleeps most of the flight.

Ryuji can't sleep at all. His mind keeps flashing back to everything that happened during the trip. Dinner dates, kissing, holding hands. After everything that's happened, can they maintain a friendship? And what about when they both begin their new promotions? It will likely be a long time before either one of them has enough free time to waste on social engagements.

No, Ryuji decides. It's more likely that they'll drift apart until they're no longer involved with one another. A natural end to a relationship that never really got its wings under it.

Worst of all is the suspicion that Akira is already well aware of those facts.

Ryuji wants to be mad about it, but it honestly makes sense. So involved as they are now, it would foolish to try to maintain a healthy friendship boundary. Ryuji knows himself especially. The best way to handle it is to get out while their wounds are still small and manageable.

It's still going to hurt, Ryuji knows. He's never had much luck with past romantic relationships, and from what he knows of Akira, neither has he. The two of them could have had something worth chasing after. All the more pity that they'll never find out.

Ryuji rouses Akira as the plane begins its descent into Tokyo. The timezone changes have his head whirling. They left LAX mid-morning, and despite a twelve-hour flight, they've arrived home in the middle of the afternoon. There's no doubt that they'll be feeling the jetlag for a few days. Which reminds Ryuji...

“How's your fever?” He asks, turning in his seat to face Akira.

“I'm better now that I've had some sleep,” Akira says as he stretches his arms over his head. Ryuji reaches over to feel his forehead, relieved to find that his temperature has come down. “I'll go home and sleep some more and be fine.”

“When do you go back to work?”

“I'll likely go in tomorrow morning.”

“That soon?” Ryuji asks, unable to hide his surprise. “You still got seven days of winter holiday. Why not use it?”

“No need,” Akira says with a shrug. “I'm all holiday-ed out.”

The conversation, and the plane, come to a stop as they touch down for a landing.

It's a fight to get off the plane itself and an even bigger one to get out of the airport. Akira's car is waiting for them in long-term parking like a beacon, despite a thin layer of dust. They stow their luggage and climb inside, sitting briefly for a moment to catch their wits.

“I hate airports,” Akira admits in a soft tone while shaking his head. His curled bangs fall down into his face, and he begins to fuss with the ends of them. “I'll take you home first.”

“No way man, you've still got the afterburn of a fever,” Ryuji reminds him sternly. “Let's go to your place. I can catch a taxi to take me home. I'm not gonna be there long anyways, just to shower and change clothes.”

“I'll be fine. It makes more sense to drop you off first.”

“I'm killing time before my train ride.”

“I'll take you to your place first,” Akira says stubbornly. It's clear that he's not going to allow Ryuji to out-argue him on the subject. They're going and that's that. Ryuji buckles his seat belt with a touch of his own frustration before sinking down low in his seat. He crosses his arms over his chest and turns away to avoid having to look at Akira. “You don't have to pout like a child.”

“I'm not,” Ryuji grumbles. “I'm tired.”

“What? Am I still not allowed to see your place?”

“That's not-”

“You were squirrely about it the first time too. Insisting I stay in the car,” Akira pauses for a heartbeat and then adds, “You invited me over for dinner sometime. I'll see your apartment eventually.”

“There ain't any reason for that anymore, is there?” Ryuji spits back. Akira takes a pause at a red light as an opportunity to glance over. His eyes are wide with shock. “Don't act like you actually intended to be my friend after all this.”

“Ryuji... Why wouldn't I want to be your friend-”

“Because it's too damn complicated!”

Akira opens his mouth to reply, but the light's changed. He turns his attention back to the road, and they drive on for a while in silence.

“I don't know what the future holds,” Akira admits in a low voice.

“I get it, man,” Ryuji grumbles, hugging his arms tighter around himself. He feels like he's holding his chest together, keeping it from shattering open from the blunt force of his heart. The emotional pain is surprisingly physical. “Once you and I both promote up, we ain't gonna have time to see each other again. Right?”

“...That was my original plan. Yes.”

“So you don't gotta go out of your way to make time for me. It's better if you don't.”

“That isn't what I want anymore. We can still be friends,” Akira insists. His hands curl tighter around the steering wheel and it makes the color blanch out of his fingers. “I don't mind making time for you.”

“We can't do that,” Ryuji insists in a sharp tone. “I can't do that. You've got my heart all wound up over you.”

“So we'll set up a list of rules and keep some boundaries-”

“'Cause that worked so well the first time! Face it, we can't be friends. We can't go back to bein' regular coworkers. It's best if we're nothing.”

Ryuji's harsh declaration seems to finally bring the argument to an end.

They arrive a short time later at Ryuji's apartment building. Akira's long since parked, but neither one of them seems to be able to move on to the next step. Akira turns in his seat to stare at Ryuji, maybe in anger, maybe in disbelief. Ryuji refuses to turn around to check. So they sit like that for a while, until the heat in the car begins to become uncomfortable.

“Yes, you're right,” Akira whispers. “My original intention had been that, to allow things with you to fizzle out. However, as you reminded me several times on our trip, that's the exact same thing as running away.”

There's another stretch of silence, broken only by the soft whooshing of the car's heater. Ryuji reaches a hand out to trace the outline of the door handle. It's the only thing separating him from the end of the awkward argument.

Akira sighs, “I'm tired of running away.”

“And as you reminded me,” Ryuji counters. “It ain't worth losin' our jobs over.”

“I don't see how a casual friendship outside of work would be a problem.”

“Because I can't have that with you!” Ryuji snaps, slamming his knuckles against the dashboard. The loud noise causes both men to jump. “I already know myself. I've had a taste of somethin' good and I'm always going to keep wanting more of it. Don't you get that?! I don't want to have to give you up, but I can't let go of this job either.”

“Ryuji, I'm sorry,” Akira says in a low tone. He moves to reach across the car. The movement startles Ryuji so bad he reacts by harshly shoving Akira's arm away.

“You were right the first time,” Ryuji hisses.

“Is that so?” Akira wonders in a low voice. His head is bent low over the steering wheel, eyes downcast. He looks vulnerable like that and Ryuji wishes he could take everything back.

Instead, he pushes himself on to say, “It's better if we forget any of this ever happened.”

“I'll get your luggage,” Akira murmurs as he hastily exits the car. Ryuji takes a moment longer, dizzy from the rapid pulse pounding against the side of his head. When he finally does get out Akira insists again that he help carry Ryuji's bags to his apartment for him. Ryuji is too tired to protest anymore, so he leads the way.

The building he rents an apartment in is old and it's evident the moment they walk through the door. The walls inside the building are a smoke gray color, adorned with exposed pipes. Ineffective florescent lighting guides them down the hallway, along with apartment noises. TVs, voices, music, there's no privacy to be had when the walls are mere inches thick.

Ryuji's ears burn, especially when he catches the way Akira's head swivels back and forth. He stares through wide eyes, taking in the less than clean surroundings.

“Don't touch anything, yeah? Might not be able to get the smell out of your clothes,” Ryuji tells him with an obvious tone of self-deprecation. Akira fixes him with a hard gaze and says nothing.

It's a struggle to get into the apartment itself. The lock on Ryuji's apartment door often sticks and it takes a massive amount of key jiggling to get it to turn. On this particular afternoon, it seems hell-bent on keeping him out. He soon gives up and settles for the old 'pocket knife' method. The blade unlatches the lock and the door swings open at last.

Ryuji steps into the familiar environment, eager to be alone for a while before he has to catch the train.

At least he would be alone if Akira were not still standing behind him in the doorway.

“I can take it from here,” Ryuji says, reaching a hand out to take hold of his bags.

“I've got them,” Akira says, moving forward in the same instant. He forces Ryuji to step back into the apartment to avoid a collision.

“I didn't invite you in.”

Akira shrugs as he places the bags on the floor, just past the doorway. “Wash up and change your clothes out. I'll drive you to the train station.”

“Wha-... Hold on!” Ryuji hisses as he moves to block Akira's further access to his dwelling. Ignoring the physical barrier in front of him, Akira tilts his head to see the interior.

Ryuji's apartment is even smaller than Akira's modest abode. A simple studio and barely even that. Though he does at least have the luxury of private facilities and a small kitchenette. Both made up for by the room's overall lack of space. Not that Ryuji needs much of that, he doesn't keep a lot of personal items. A TV, space for a futon, and a well-stocked bookcase of manga.

“It's tidy,” Akira comments, attempting to make it further inside. He's stopped by Ryuji blocking his path with an outstretched arm.

“Yeah, well, it's not like I strive to live in squalor.”

“You know that's not what I meant.”

“I didn't invite you in,” Ryuji informs him bluntly. “I don't need a ride to the station. I can get there myself.”

“I'm not saying you can't,” Akira hedges. He reaches an arm behind himself to pull the door shut, sealing them both inside.

Ryuji holds his ground, boxing Akira out of his apartment. “So get out.”

“Ryuji,” Akira says his name levelly. He reaches across the slight distance between them to cup the side of his face.

“Don't,” Ryuji mumbles. His skin crawls with the overwhelming desire to pull away. Yet there's also an angry sense of curiosity that roots him in place.

“Everything you said in the car was right. And if being friends isn't something you think you can do, I respect that.” Akira's voice is gentle, comforting. Absentmindedly he begins to rub his thumb back and forth over the top of Ryuji's cheek. Ryuji wants to stay angry, but he can't find the energy for it. His emotions are as exhausted and worn down as his body.

“I don't want,” Akira pauses, mouth slightly agape. Ryuji can see the panic inside his eyes as he struggles with his words. “Whatever this is between us, I don't want it to end with an argument.”

“I don't either,” Ryuji admits in a low voice. He drops his eyes down to stare at the floor, face burning with shame. “I don't want it to have to end at all.”

“I don't either.”

With a sigh, Ryuji reaches up to place his hand over Akira's, “I still can't let you take me to the station. I need a clean break.”

“I understand,” Akira says, and then, “...Thank you.”

“For what, man? I didn't do anything.”

“You made me realize a lot of things I wouldn't have realized on my own,” Akira tells him. “I think I can face down my demons a bit better now.”

“Nah, I didn't do that,” Ryuji says around a strained laugh. “You had the courage inside you already. All I did was remind ya.”

“Then I'm thankful for that.”

“Hey, it's the least I can do. You taught me to snowboard.”

“Is that all?” Akira asks, lips quirking in amusement. “You're welcome.”

“You too,” says Ryuji around a crooked smile.

“I should go. I don't want to make you miss your train.”

“Yeah...” Ryuji glances at his watch, frowning at the time. Akira's hand drops down off of his face, leaving a phantom outline behind. “For what it's worth, I'm glad I got the opportunity to get to know you.”

“I'm glad too,” Akira agrees, voice wavering. It shatters something inside Ryuji's chest. Without thinking, he takes a step closer. They meet in the middle. Two sets of desperate hands begin clinging and grabbing. A mindless struggle until their bodies align. Ryuji kisses Akira, melting into it with his entire being.

He knows it's the last time they'll be able to hold each other like this.

It feels too brief. They break apart from one another, gasping for air and overheated in the small entryway. Ryuji stares into the vast silver pools of Akira's eyes, hypnotized. He doesn't notice Akira's hand searching for the door handle. His focus is on trying to calm his racing pulse. The door swings open, nearly hitting Ryuji in the face. Akira slips out into the hallway.

Ryuji doesn't say goodbye, but he thinks it and feels it deep inside his chest like an echo. He shuts the apartment door with a soft click.

_It's over._

* * *

Ryuji exits the tiny train station of his hometown, groggy and dazed from the ride. He slept most of the trip, though he can't say he got any real rest. His mind is still tangled up with thoughts of Akira. He wonders if he's actually doing the right thing, prioritizing a job over a person. There are no guarantees for either option. Things might not go anywhere with his job in the same way they might not go anywhere with Akira. The uncertainty scares Ryuji more than he wants to admit.

“Are you going to walk off without saying hello to your mother?” A familiar voice jars Ryuji out of his thoughts. He glances up to meet a pair of dark brown eyes and a crooked smile.

“Ma, what're you doin' here?” Ryuji asks. He hurries across the sidewalk to where she's standing with her hip propped against the side of her car. He sets his bags on the ground so that he can duck into her open-armed embrace.

“What do you mean 'what am I doing here'? I'm here to pick you up.”

“I could'a walked.”

“I know you could have,” She shrugs as she pulls away from him, smiling brilliantly. “I didn't want to wait any longer to see you.”

“Jeeze,” Ryuji grumbles, feeling a tinge of embarrassment. He'd been away long enough that he forgot what it felt like to be 'mothered'. She scoots around him to pick up his luggage, swinging it into the back seat of her car in an effortless motion.

“Get inside and warm yourself up,” She instructs, climbing back in on the driver's side. Ryuji is all too happy to obey. His lightweight Tokyo jacket is doing very little to keep out the chill. “How was California?”

“About like it is here,” Ryuji tells her as he settles into his seat. “More snow there than here.”

“Sounds like a nightmare.”

“Nah, it ain't so bad.”

“Did you do a lot of skiing?” She asks, putting the car in gear. Snow crunches under the tires as they move out of the parking lot.

“Snowboarding. Aki-... Er, Kurusu taught me,” Ryuji explains, hastily brushing over his fumble of Akira's name. “It was actually pretty awesome. I'd like to go again sometime.”

Ryuji can see his mother glance at him out of the corner of his eye. She noticed his slip up, but she doesn't press the issue. “Maybe you and I can go together. I'd like to learn.”

“To snowboard?!”

“Sure, why not?”

“It's a hell of a lot harder than it looks!” Ryuji insists.

“What,” she intones the word with a slight laugh. “Afraid I'll break a hip?”

“Y'ain't that old.”

“Exactly, so don't act so surprised when I say I want to learn.”

The two fall into a companionable conversation as they drive through town. In the two years since Ryuji left, not much has changed. He spots a new grocery store and some of the older businesses have updated their signs. Most sport coats of fresh paint and new hand lettering. Others have updated to modern fluorescents.

“Things change slowly here,” his mother comments, glancing sideways at him. “I thought I would have grown tired of it by now, but I haven't.”

“Yeah, me either,” Ryuji agrees. “It's nice to be able to go away and come back to everything bein' how I remember it.”

“It stays the same while you keep evolving.”

Ryuji glances back at her, eyes wide with curiosity, “Do I seem all that different?”

“A little,” she confesses. “Though I can't say how.”

“...Is it a bad thing?”

“I don't think so. It's natural to become a different person after leaving home.”

“Maybe you can help me figure out who I am now,” Ryuji sighs, laying his head against the side window. The pane of glass is cold against his brow. “Cuz I sure as hell don't know who that person is.”

“I'll try,” she says gently, moving a hand off the steering wheel to reach over and grip one of Ryuji's. “You're tired. Let's get you home and into bed.”

“Thanks, Ma.”

* * *

Ryuji wakes the next morning, body still exhausted and thoroughly jet-lagged. Yet his mind feels sharp with energy. He has a quiet breakfast with his mother before she goes to work. It leaves the rest of his day wide open. No better time for a jog, he decides.

There's an old pair of sneakers somewhere inside his closet, left behind when he moved. They're still there, though unearthing them proves to be a challenge. His mother has boxes of old junk stacked floor to ceiling. Likely shoved in there in an attempt to 'tidy up' before he came home. It's no secret that once he moved to Tokyo his room became storage for all their family mementos.

When he finally unearths the shoes, he runs his hands affectionately over the laces. They're leftover from his track days, worn, but still suitable for his current needs. Back in Tokyo, his morning jogging routine had fallen by the wayside. He always found himself too busy with work or socializing to keep up with it. Here in the middle of nowhere, he doesn't have any good excuses.

Starting at his house, he jogs down the hill and into town. It's a four-mile stretch from end to end if he keeps to the main road. During his track days, he used to run the distance twice, sometimes even three times a day. It's impossible to imagine doing that now, not with his knee the way it is.

He manages to keep a steady pace for the first half of the jog. As he makes for home he gives up and settles for a leisurely walk. There's no need to push himself.

Going through town he can feel the atmosphere buzzing with excitement. The residents are setting up for the New Years festival, an event that spans over the first few days in January. It's a big celebration for such a small town, with booths of entertainment and a fireworks show. Ryuji's pleased that he'll be around for it. Due to his schedule in Tokyo, he missed the two prior years.

 _I wonder if Akira likes things like this,_ an invasive thought Ryuji doesn't mean to have. It stops him dead in his tracks. Keeping his mind off that singular topic had been easier when he was sleep deprived the day before. Now he's alone with his thoughts, and they've clearly run away with him.

He supposes the reply is that _it doesn't matter._ He and Akira aren't going to be meeting again after he returns to Tokyo. If Ryuji's lucky, they won't see each other at all. The magnetism they feel towards each other will fade away, and he won't have to think about it anymore.

Another bad memory he can work on forgetting.

Only as he continues to walk, his heart reminds him that it isn't a bad memory at all. Everything that happened over the brief stay in California was meaningful. He was happy. Maybe the happiest he had been since his move to Tokyo.

_I miss that feeling._

The walk back to his mother's house is quiet and lonely.

* * *

“We should go to the festival while I'm here,” Ryuji tells his mother at dinner that evening. She glances up at him and then smiles like a Cheshire cat. “What's with that face, Ma?”

“I was hoping you would want to go,” She explains. “But I didn't want to be pushy about it.”

“Why wouldn't I want to?”

“I dunno. I just thought... Maybe it was a little lame for you now that you've experienced festivals in Tokyo. I'm sure they put on some impressive firework shows there.”

“Y'know,” Ryuji says with a long sigh. “I haven't been to a single festival since I moved there.”

“What?” His mother leans forward in her seat, intrigued by his confession. “Why not?”

“Never wanted to, or needed to. Nothin' can beat the festivals we have here.”

“I'm sure Mr. Hosado will be pleased to hear that.”

“Hosado?” Ryuji's eyebrows raise in surprise. “He's still on the planning committee?! He must be like, ninety years old by now!”

His mother bursts out laughing, almost overturning her dinner plate. “Ryuji! He's only seventy-two!”

“Could'a fooled me!”

“Who raised you to be so cheeky?” She asks though the answer is obvious. “Finish eating. It's time we get down to business opening our Christmas gifts.”

The two of them sit on the floor of the living room, trading small wrapped packages. Finding gifts for her in Tokyo had been refreshingly easy. Especially with Ann there to help him. She was more than happy to offer advice on clothing choices or to suggest accessories.

Each ensemble is a hit with his mother. She's reverted to full-on 'kid in a candy store' mode, hyper with unconstrained energy. It isn't hard to see where Ryuji gets it from. After each new gift, she bounds from the room to change, modeling the selections.

Her cheerful mood is infectious as always. Ryuji can't help laughing along with her and cracking the odd joke. Maybe he's trying a bit too hard, but if she notices, she doesn't say anything.

His mother gives as good as she gets when it comes to his gifts. Ryuji receives a new, and presumably expensive, lens for his camera. A portrait lens, he realizes upon its install. He's so excited he can't stop himself from trying it out right away. Everything becomes his subject. He snaps photos of the furniture, houseplants, his mother, despite some weak protesting on her part.

“Thanks, Ma,” He tells her once he's exhausted himself. He seats himself amongst the discarded wrapping paper, tweaking the camera lens settings. His mother, on the other hand, has taken to sprawling out like a cat over the floor. She's wearing one of the tops he got her, paired with a pair of Christmas pajama pants. He snaps a quick photo of her, earning a sharp glare in reply. “It's a good look for you.”

“Oh yeah, I'm sure all the men in town will throw themselves down at my feet if I wear this,” She rolls her eyes. Lazily she begins to pick up pieces of wrapping paper. She adorns her body with them until she looks like a halfhearted attempt at paper mache. Ryuji snaps another photo. “So you like the lens?”

“Hell yeah!”

“I thought the compact size would be good for you. You can toss it into your bag before heading out with friends. I don't know if it will work for your job though.”

“I can use it for both,” Ryuji insists, because well, he can. He enjoys the challenge of finding a way to bend the rules of how a specific lens should be used. It's doubled his arsenal and made for some very interesting photography. “Though I'll definitely be takin' it with me when I go out with Ann.”

“How is she by the way?” His mother wonders airily. “She and Shiho are still together, right?”

“Of course. Why wouldn't they be?”

“No reason, I'm happy to hear it. The two of them were so glued to the hip as children, it's a wonder half the town didn't see it coming.”

“C'mon, Ma. You didn't see it coming either,” Ryuji goads. “The look on your face when you found out... I wish I had had a camera back then to capture it.”

“I don't remember making any kind of face. I knew, or at least suspected, for a long time.”

“Y'did not.”

“Don't call your mother a liar,” She laughs, hooking her hands through the mess paper to seize his camera out of his lap. He tries to take it back from her, but she uses her legs to worm away from him.

“Oi, what are you? Some kind of child?” Ryuji scolds, but she ignores him. It's not worth the effort, so he lets it go.

“Have you made any other friends besides Ann and Shiho? Tokyo is full of personalities.”

“Mostly at work,” Ryuji says with a half shrug of his shoulders. “There's this quiet guy named Mishima. Kind of an oddball, but he's ace at computer stuff. He writes up articles to go along with the photos I take. We go out for drinks now and again.”

“Networking with your coworkers is important.”

Ryuji catches his mother staring at him, a strange glint in her eye. He can't imagine what she's thinking, or what she's trying to imply.

“I get along pretty well with everyone in my department. The boss is a real hag, but that sort of thing can't be helped.”

She turns her attention back to the camera's screen display. “Is the job everything that you were hoping for?”

“I mean,” Ryuji pauses to think for a moment, getting his words in order. “It's about what I expected. I'm still entry-level, so I'm not doing anything real excitin'. If my boss comes through with that promotion she promised, I might get to travel a bit more. The traveling itself is a bitch, but it's usually fun once I get there.”

“Any girlfriends I should know about?”

“Ma!”

“Any boyfriends?”

“The hell are you asking?” Ryuji can feel his face beginning to flush. He turns away from her, hoping that she hasn't noticed. “I ain't got time to date.”

“You still haven't told me about California,” his mother says in a light voice. She's definitely fishing. “You had to work with that coworker you hate. I imagine you have a lot of stories to tell about that.”

“Oh uh, he wasn't as bad as I thought,” Ryuji mumbles, trying to brush over the subject. He's hoping if he gives her a condensed version it'll satisfy her enough to let it drop. “Well, actually he's pretty weird. He eats all this healthy food. Like, he's one of those vegetarians. Kinda. He eats fish.”

“A pescatarian I think. Ooooh, the horror of not eating red meat~”

“You wanna know, or not?”

“Go on.”

“He taught me how to snowboard, which was real cool. Kinda embarrassin' too, because we had to start out on the bunny hill.” Ryuji tells her, quick to add, “I aced it by lunchtime though.”

“The mountains were beautiful. Snow everywhere a'course, but like, a different kind than we get here. That first day Akira and I went out, there was soft powder all over the place. Looked like a big rainbow disco ball or somethin'. It was cold as hell, but like, once you're out there it doesn't even matter.”

“Food was good too,” Ryuji blubbers on, unable to stop now that he's started. “We went and got steak twice. Room service food was good too, though definitely not as good as the steak. Well, I got steak, and uh, Akira got fish.”

“Akira,” his mother echoes thoughtfully. “So you've taken to calling him by his first name?”

“Er, well, he was callin' me by my name.”

“I see.” She retreats for the moment, but Ryuji knows she hasn't really dropped it. Then she does something unexpected. The conversation derails as she announces, “I'm seeing someone.”

 _“What?”_ Ryuji hisses. It's the absolute last thing he would have expected her to say. He struggles through a few stuttering attempts before he's able to ask, “What- I mean who-who is it?”

“He's a cop.”

Ryuji exhales slowly, trying to remember all the men working in local law enforcement. He can remember faces, but no names.

“Is he from around here?” Ryuji prompts.

“No.”

“Then how...?”

“We met online.”

Ryuji's mind spins with horror. They met online?!

“Ma! Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?!” Ryuji exclaims the words, shocked and horrified by his mother's apparent recklessness. “Hell, if I had known you were gonna do somethin' like that, I would'a never left for Tokyo!”

“Excuse me!” His mother snaps back, sitting upright. The paper that had been covering her body goes flying. Despite his anger, it takes a lot for Ryuji not to laugh about it. He must be losing his mind. “Who's the parent and who's the child here? I don't need you supervising my love life.”

“Then why bring it up?!”

“I had to tell you eventually,” She shakes her head. “I knew you were going to be upset, I just-”

She doesn't seem to know how to finish and Ryuji isn't sure he wants her to. It's not as if he doesn't want her to move on with her life. Or that he never imagined that she might find a new partner someday. The timing is simply horrible, what with his own failed romance. Guilt blossoms inside him. He takes a couple of deep breaths to calm back down.

“I'm sorry,” he says first, reaching over to take hold of one of her hands. He squeezes gently. Her shoulders begin to relax. “I wasn't expecting to hear somethin' like that.”

“I know,” She tells him in a gentle tone. “I'm sorry I sprang it on you like that.”

“How long has this been, uh, going on?”

“Um... Since a bit before you left for Tokyo.”

Ryuji blanches a bit, “That long? So it's pretty serious then.”

“He's planning to transfer here so that we don't have to commute so much,” she explains in a rush. “He was going to come out for Christmas. I wanted you two to meet, but it didn't work out that way. It was too difficult for him to get time off for New Years.”

“I get that,” Ryuji says slowly. He hates to see her upset, especially knowing that he's the cause. He wraps an arm around her shoulders to pull her into a hug. “Is... Is he good to you?”

Really, that's the most important thing. Ryuji can get past the rest, as long as his mother is happy and well taken care of.

“Of course,” His mother says. “We've taken this relationship slowly. He had a wife before me, but she passed away. He's got a daughter who's a few years younger than you.”

“A daughter, huh? Must be hard raisin' a kid on your own-... Oh. Well, you would know, I guess.”

“I hope you can forgive me for hiding it for this long. I didn't want to tell you and then have it not work out. It's one thing if I'm disappointed on my own. It's something else if you're forced to feel sorry for me.”

“I trust your judgment,” Ryuji tells her, though he quickly adds, “I want to meet him. I gotta decide for myself how I feel about him.”

“Absolutely. I'll make sure that you get that opportunity.”

“And uh, despite kinda freaking out, I am happy for ya.”

“I know you are,” she says, pulling away from his embrace. She reaches up to cup the side of his face, offering a soft and reassuring smile. “You take very good care of me.”

“Well yeah,” Ryuji murmurs, glancing off to the side. He can barely look her in the eyes, feeling far too vulnerable, and a bit embarrassed. “You always took care of me. Time to repay the favor.”

“You don't owe me anything, Ryuji. I'm just happy you're my son.”

“...A cop, huh?”

She laughs and the sound warms the room back up. “Detective, but it's all the same to me.”

“I uh,” Ryuji begins, his voice unsteady with nerves. “I met someone too.”

“Oh? I thought you didn't have time to date.”

“I don't, but-”

“I had a hunch,” his mother says, picking up his camera. She pushes the button to turn on the view screen, flipping it around so that he can see. It's the photo he took of himself and Akira at the base of the mountain, on their last night in California. 

“Shit, I left my work SD card in there,” Ryuji grumbles, face lighting up with heat. He takes the camera from her, staring down at the photo. A hollow feeling begins to form inside his chest.

“So that's him, right? Akira Kurusu, your sworn enemy.”

“Yeah, that's him”

“Only... Not so much an enemy anymore, right?”

“Not so much,” Ryuji agrees. She doesn't press, simply sits quietly while he organizes his thoughts.

Without meaning to, he comes uncorked, telling her what actually happened in California. The rules, and how quickly they were broken. The fake, but not actually fake, dates. How Akira was nothing like Ryuji thought he was. By the end, he feels exhausted, like he's had to relive it all.

“It's stupid,” Ryuji blubbers. “It's not like he and I have been datin' for months or anything, or like, y'know, datin' at all. I hardly know him. I just-... It's this connection I can't explain.”

“It happens,” his mother reassures him. “If you weren't working together, do you think you'd want to continue the relationship?”

“Yeah, I would. Definitely would.”

“In terms of your job, you probably made the right decision. As for your heart-... I can't imagine how difficult it was for you to walk away.”

“Feels more like runnin'. Like I took the coward's way out,” Ryuji grumbles. “I told him off, right before leaving. He wanted to keep bein' friends, but I didn't know if I could-... I can't. I'd want more and be pissed off when I couldn't have it. Fuck, it's so stupid.”

“Shh, I know,” she croons to him, combing her fingers gently through his hair. They don't speak much after that. Ryuji shuts his eyes and allows his mother to baby him for a while. He feels foolish at first, a grown man whining to his mom about his love life. Eventually, he decides he doesn't care.

He's tired. He's so damn tired.

* * *

The next few days pass in a blur of activity. Ryuji's mother ropes him into helping one of their old neighbors with a food stall at the festival. It starts out as a pain in the ass and eventually turns into a welcome distraction. He stays so busy that he doesn't have time to dwell on Akira. Even when he's not working the booth, his friends and mother keep him tied up. They cruise the festival's other offerings and spend time catching up.

To close out the festivities, the town puts on its biggest fireworks display. It draws large crowds, with people traveling from nearby cities to see the show. In the past, it was always Ryuji's favorite part. Now it only serves as a reminder that the festival is ending, and so is his distraction.

Dazzling bursts of colors explode above his head, yet Ryuji can hardly see them. His mind is elsewhere, retracing all his steps, trying to remember all the details.

Ryuji wonders if this is the feeling that Akira expressed to him in California. An unwavering desire to push forward without stopping. A need to move away from the happiness that isn't deserved. The irony of it isn't lost on him. Every word he spoke to Akira comes back to haunt him.

The fireworks show comes to an end in an explosion of rainbow flashes and loud pops. The lack of sound afterward leaves Ryuji's chest feeling hollow.


	7. Bad 80's Pop Music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys come to a decision about their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! This is the last technical chapter of this story! Though there is an 'Afterwards' and a 'Bonus' for you to read as well. It's exciting to be finishing a work for once. Now that this is over I plan to focus more on my other Pegoryu fics. My main focus for a while will be updating my Pegoryu space AU, Beyond The Stars and maybe finishing up my PegoryuWeek fic from last year. So if any of ya'll are reading those, updates will be coming! Thanks for sticking around with me and my fickle writing habits. 
> 
> Without further ado, to Voido and all you readers, here is the conclusion!

**Ryuji**  
  
Ryuji wakes late the morning after the festival. He spends an extra hour lounging about in bed. Just because he can. It's a stark change to the previous few days, where he was up at dawn to help with the stall prep. His back is stiff and his right knee a little sore. He's not used to standing and working for hours at a time. It makes him miss his cushy desk job back in Tokyo.

The curtains over his window are doing their job to fight against the bright mid-morning sun. His bedroom has a gloomy appearance, almost the way it looks on a rainy day. He toys with the idea of going back to sleep. It would be an easy way to pass the day, but he decides against it. His time with his mother is limited, and she deserves as much of it as he can give her.

Forcing himself out of bed, Ryuji gets as far as the center of his bedroom before he has to stop. He stands there for a while, shoulders slumped and head throbbing. It takes a lot of motivation to force himself to walk from his bedroom to the bathroom. He makes it into the shower without notice, not quite awake enough for socializing.

The water transforms him from a zombie into something resembling a human being. He changes into fresh clothes and combs through his hair. Staring at himself in the mirror, he wonders if the bags under his eyes are going to become a permanent feature.

For breakfast, his mother has pulled out all the stops, making a huge spread for him. He had been skipping out while working at the festival, up at too early an hour to justify it. Now that she's gone to all the trouble for him, he intends to take his time to savor everything.

“So what should we do today?” She wonders from her side of the table.

“Mmm, we could work on those boxes in my room,” Ryuji suggests. She stares at him with wide eyes, her expression bordering on horror. “C'mon Ma, we gotta go through them eventually. Might as well be while I'm here. Out with the old and in with the new!”

“Or...” She drags the word out as she rises from the table, gathering her dishes up. “We could go ice-skating instead.”

“We had planned to do that tomorrow.”

“OH! Or we could make New Year's Mochi! I know we were going to do that tomorrow too, but what's a day early? If you want to take it back to your friends, it will keep an extra day.”

“Ma,” Ryuji sighs in exasperation. “Those boxes in my closet have doubled since the last time I was here. You can't just shove them in there to hide them.”

“It got the room clean, didn't it?”

“You want to become a hoarder?” Ryuji stares at her from his place at the table. She's facing away from him, washing her breakfast plate. Scrubbing with an unnecessary vigor, she tries to avoid the answer.

“I'm not a hoarder. I'm just... Sentimental!” she argues.

“C'mon, it won't be that bad,” Ryuji says, standing up from the table. He comes to stand behind her at the sink, placing his hands lightly over her shoulders. “The stuff in the boxes is just stuff. The memories are in your head. Right?”

His mother sighs a long weary shuddering exhale, “Fine. We can go through them.”

“Hell yeah!”

“But I have some rules.”

 _Rules._   
  
The word stops Ryuji in his tracks, and he mentally flinches away from it. He knows his mother didn't mean anything by it, but it still throws him for a loop. He's only half-listening to her as they wash and dry the rest of the dishes.

“Ryuji? Did you hear me?” His mother's voice rips him out of his daze.

“Yeah, Ma, I heard you. Rules are fine,” He tells her, flicking soapy water off his hands.

“I asked you if you're okay.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, just thinkin'.”

“Oh, about-”

“C'mon. We should get started,” Ryuji cuts her off before she can finish. Hastily he turns tail to retreat to his bedroom. It gives him a few moments alone to find his composure. By the time his mother catches up to him, he's settled down enough to act normally. At least, he hopes it's normal.

They get to work right away, removing the first stack of boxes from the closet. The goal is to organize them by category and then sit down to go through the contents. It's cathartic in a way and once Ryuji gets into it, his mind stays relatively focused. Most of his things are easy to part with, and he's all too happy to put them in the toss or donate boxes. Every time he discards something, he can see his mother's mouth open to protest.

She makes little progress on her own. Everything she pulls out is a 'must keep'. Ryuji has to pick his battles. Although, when it comes to the most useless and eccentric items, he doesn't hold back on making her get rid of them. One woman only needs so many oven mitts. Her arguments over the seasonal designs of them are fast to be overruled.

By late afternoon, despite his mother's stalling, they have half of the closet clear. They eat a late lunch before spending some time clearing away trash bags and give-away boxes. Ryuji loads the donations into his mother's car, intending to go first thing in the morning to drop them off. It's a sure bet that if he doesn't do it, his mother never will.

“Y'know, you could turn this into a guest room,” Ryuji suggests to her.

“Why would I want to do that?” she wonders in a sharp tone. It's not the first time Ryuji has brought it up. If the look of outrage on his mother's face tells him anything, it's that she's refusing to consider it.

“C'mon, Ma. You've always talked about wantin' to have a space for guests.”

“And what guests might those be?” She asks him as she leans over the top of a box of his baby clothes. Ryuji's been trying for half an hour to convince her to give some of them up, to no avail. The only thing she's put in her 'donate' box is a single plain white onesie. She eyes it speculatively. “It makes sense for you to sleep in your own room when you come to visit. And obviously Dojima sleeps in my room-”

“Lemme stop ya right there,” Ryuji mumbles, face hot with embarrassment. He doesn't want to think about something like that.

“What~? Are you embarrassed~?” she coos at him, reaching over to scrub her hand through his hair.

“Ma, please.”

Ryuji doesn't have to suffer for long. The doorbell rings and it's the perfect excuse to escape. Leaping to his feel, Ryuji shuffles his way through the house to answer it. It's probably Mrs. Takeishi again. She stopped by earlier in the day to borrow a cup of rice flour, then again for some milk. He wonders what she's come back for this time.

“What can we help you with this time?” Ryuji asks as he opens the door, fully expecting to see the older woman standing on the other side. It's not Mrs. Takeishi at all, but a familiar face all the same. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

Akira stares, not at Ryuji, but down at the ground. As if the concrete entryway is somehow fascinating. Ryuji clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest. Irritation soon replaces shock and it takes a lot for him not to slam the door shut.

“Hey,” Akira manages to grit out, glancing up. He shoves his hands down into the pockets of his jacket and Ryuji catches a glimpse of bright red leather.

“That ain't what I asked,” Ryuji replies in a harsh tone. “Why are you here?”

“I came to-”

“Ryuji? Who's at the door?” his mother's voice echoes down the hallway. It grows louder as she approaches from the back end of the house.

“Shit!” Ryuji hisses, thrusting an arm outside to shove at Akira's chest. It knocks him back a step and his eyes grow wide behind his glasses. “Stay here!”

Without any more of an explanation, Ryuji shuts the door. The last thing he needs is for his mother to catch sight of Akira. She'll never leave the two of them alone if she does.

“It was Mrs. Takeishi again. Wanted to borrow, an uh,” Ryuji's eyes pan towards the kitchen. “a whisk.”

“A whisk?” she wonders, cocking her head to the side. “What for?”

“Dunno! I didn't ask!” Ryuji sweeps past her and into the kitchen. “She was kinda in a rush, so I said I would bring it over to her.”

His mother sighs and for a moment Ryuji is certain that she knows he's lying. Instead, she mutters, “Well be sure to tell her to bring it back this time. Politely of course, but make sure she does know that I need it back.”

“What? Has she been stealing your cookin' utensils again?”

“Ugh, yes. I've had to buy replacements for everything.”

“She never changes,” Ryuji says with a small chuckle. He seizes the whisk from the kitchen and returns to the front door. Akira is waiting outside right where Ryuji left him. “Start walking.”

Akira glances up, “Why?”

“Because man! I don't want my mom to see you!”

Ryuji grasps hold of one of Akira's arms and begins to guide him down and away from the house. Shooting a nervous glance over his shoulder, he leads them both beyond the yard and out onto the street. Akira keeps pace with him, stealing glances every so often. One of his eyebrows is arched in a silent question of 'What's going on?'.

“I love her, but she's like... The town gossip or somethin',” Ryuji hisses. They're finally out of the eyesight of the house, but he doesn't stop there. The more distance he puts between them and his mother, the better. “Why are you here?”

“Would she even know who I am?” Akira wonders, bypassing Ryuji's question by asking one of his own.

“Er, yeah, she probably would.”

“You told her about us?”

“There is no 'us', so why does it matter?” Ryuji snaps, turning to face Akira. Gray eyes flash towards the whisk in Ryuji's other hand. “Don't ask.”

“Then did you tell her about the trip?” Akira's voice is serious, but there's something like a smirk forming at the corners of his mouth. He's amused by Ryuji's histrionics.

“I told her about what a terrible asshole of a coworker you are.”

Akira laughs and the sound shoots like an arrow through Ryuji's chest. He wants to laugh too, to fall back into the comfortable rhythm they had at the resort. He can't. He won't.

“Why are you here?” This isn't how Ryuji wanted them to meet again. Or rather, he hadn't planned on them ever seeing each other again.

“There weren't any rooms at the local hotel,” Akira explains, glancing over his shoulder. They're just up the road from the town. From this vantage point, they can see the festival take-down going on. It looks like a moving splotch of color. “With the New Year's celebrations, I guess I shouldn't be surprised.”

“So what, you're here on assignment? Coverin' the festival?”

“No,” Akira drags the word out as if it should be obvious. “I came here to talk to you.”

“Fine,” Ryuji growls, crossing his arms over his chest. The curved tines of the whisk spring a bit from the sudden movement, catching Akira's eyes again. “Start talking. The sooner you finish the sooner you can leave.”

“I'll explain everything, but,” Akira pauses, his expression bordering on sheepish. “I can't actually leave after. Traffic is basically gridlocked leading back to Tokyo.”

“So take the train home!”

“I'd rather not leave my car behind.”

“Of course,” Ryuji grumbles. It's a sensible explanation, but something about it irritates him. Akira of all people would find a way to strand himself to get what he wanted. “You can stay on our couch, I guess.”

“What about your mother? I thought you didn't want her to see me,” Akira reminds him.

“I can't leave you without a place to stay. If it wasn't wintertime I'd make you sleep on a park bench or somethin' but it's too cold for that. You can crash on the couch,” As if confirming Ryuji's point, a gust of icy wind kicks up. He shivers as it carves its way across the hilltop. The light sweatshirt he's wearing isn't enough to cut the chill. He pulls it tighter around himself anyway. “See? It's too damn cold.”

“Here,” Akira takes a step closer, shedding out of his overcoat as he does. “Put this on.”

“It's cool, man. We're not that far from the house-”

Akira pointedly ignores him, moving to drape the jacket around Ryuji's shoulders. As he had thought before, Akira is wearing the gloves that Ryuji bought for him. They contrast against the steely gray wool sweater he's wearing.

“You kept the gloves,” Ryuji mutters, ducking his head down inside the coat's collar. The fabric smells good, a mix of whatever Akira wears overlaid by the dimmer smell of coffee.

“Should I not have?” Akira wonders.

“Nah, man. It's fine. Let's go.” Ryuji turns on his heels and begins walking back towards the house. Akira lingers for a moment or so before following.

“Thank you for letting me stay with you. I will try not to be in the way.”

“Bit late for that,” Ryuji grumbles.

“If it's an issue, I can sleep in my car. I probably won't freeze.”

“Don't be so damn dramatic. I invited you to stay, so stay.” They walk in silence for a while, two pairs of shoes crunching in sync over the snow. With the cold air and snowy atmosphere, it's almost easy to forget that they're in Japan.

“It's beautiful here,” Akira comments offhand. His head has been swiveling the entire walk, taking in the sights. “My hometown... It was something like this. No snow of course, but older houses. Lots of hillsides. When I'm in Tokyo, I forget what the outside world looks like.”

“Me too,” Ryuji agrees in a low tone. “I never thought I'd miss the slow and simple pace of this town.”

“It's dreamlike.”

“Hey, uh, look,” Ryuji begins to say, his voice wavering with uncertainty. “I'm headed back to Tokyo the day after tomorrow. Why don't you stay until then? The traffic will be better. You can see some more of the town.”

“...Wouldn't that count as being in the way?” Akira wonders.

“It's fine, man. I'm inviting ya.”

“Then I will stay,” Akira says softly like he's still a little unsure himself. His expression shifts again as he asks, “What's with the whisk?”

“Huh? Oh, uh,” Ryuji glances down at the forgotten utensil. “I had to make an excuse for who was at the door. So if my mom asks, I went to give this to the neighbor and ran into you along the way.”

“The neighbor. Got it.”

Upon return to the house, Ryuji's mother is ecstatic to find that he has brought a guest along. Doubly so when she recognizes who it is. She doesn't even question his mysterious appearance, too busy giving him a grand tour of the Sakamoto house. If it's a bother to Akira, he doesn't show it. He's turned his charm up to eleven, and it doesn't take long for Ryuji's mother to become smitten.

Every so often she'll shoot an excited glance in Ryuji's direction, looking far too hopeful.

Somehow she convinces Akira to join in with the purging of Ryuji's bedroom closet. She's suddenly enthusiastic about 'getting down to work'. Though this turns out to mean that she's not sorting through boxes so much as pulling things out to show to Akira. It's all mundane things, Ryuji's middle school track trophies or his toddler shoes. It only becomes a problem when she finds a photo album. Ryuji nearly has to tackle her down to take it away. She was one page away from reaching the 'naked baby butt' section.

The organized piles that she and Ryuji had formed at the beginning of the day are now a mixed-up mess. It's impossible to tell the 'keep' items from the 'give away' ones. Ryuji tries for a while to sort them back before giving up. Settling himself apart from Akira and his mother, he opens up a box of old manga volumes. It's something he can go through without his mother's supervision.

Ryuji's mind doesn't stay on this new task for very long. More and more he's tuning in to the conversation between his mother and Akira. She has an endless arsenal of old stories and happy memories to share. It's embarrassing, but Ryuji knows that once she's started there's no stopping her. Akira seems happy enough just listening.

The late afternoon rolls on. Tucked inside the warm and comforting space, Ryuji hardly notices when he starts to doze off. He leans over to rest his head atop ta box, closing his eyes 'just for a minute'. It's not until hours later that he awakens to find that he fell asleep in the first place. He lifts his head, wincing against the stiffness at the back of his neck.

A slight movement catches his attention, and when he glances up, it's to see Akira hovering over him. He's clutching the ends of a blanket, arms outstretched to drape the fabric around Ryuji's shoulders.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you,” Akira says as he takes a full step back, intent on retreating towards the door.

“You can stay,” Ryuji says around a yawn. “We should prolly talk.”

“Are you sure?”

“No, but we should do it and get it over with.” Ryuji reaches his arms out in front of himself, stretching out his neck and shoulder muscles. Akira's eyes cling to him, watching every slight movement. “C'mon man. Come sit down.”

Akira seats himself on the other side of the box, hands folded neatly inside his lap. He meets Ryuji's gaze and for a heartbeat, they simply stare at one another.

“Why did you come here?” Ryuji asks, breaking eye contact.

“I won't leave things the way they ended in Tokyo,” Akira explains bluntly. Whatever lack of confidence he was suffering from earlier in the day seems to have remedied. He comes at Ryuji like a man on a mission. And maybe in some ways, he is. “I can't pretend I don't feel anything for you. I can't pretend we didn't form some kind of connection. I know this feeling isn't one-sided.”

“Of course not,” Ryuji agrees. “We've been over this before though. All it's gonna do is make things awkward at work, or worse, get us both terminated.”

“Is that really the worst that can happen?”

“Yes!” Ryuji exclaims, his frustration returning. “We already had this damn conversation one time. Why do you have to keep bringin' it up?!”

“I'm not,” Akira insists. “Let me explain-”

“I don't want you to explain. If this is what you came here to talk to me about, you can forget it,” Ryuji hisses back, straining to keep his voice low. He can hear his mother fluttering about in the kitchen, a few feet from his bedroom doorway. “Akira, c'mon. For real, man, let it go.”

“Not until you hear what I have to say.”

“You shouldn't have come here.”

“Maybe,” Akira agrees. “I'm here now though.”

Before the conversation can get any further, Ryuji's mother appears in the doorway.

“Are you awake Ryuji? I've got dinner on the table,” she's all smiles as she comes to fetch them. The polar opposite of the dour mood inside the bedroom. “Akira, you'll be joining us, right?”

“Of course,” he agrees with a slight glance in Ryuji's direction.

“It's fine,” Ryuji encourages, though there's nothing in the world he wants less. Their argument will have to go on the back burner yet again. “Gimme a minute and I'll be right there.”

Ryuji excuses himself to the bathroom, using the time alone as a much-needed respite. Fighting with Akira is exhausting on its own. Keeping his mother oblivious has only added to the pressure. He doesn't want her asking questions, but more than that, he doesn't want to disappoint her. She seems to be under the impression that Akira's sudden arrival means that the two of them have worked things out.

Ryuji only wishes that were true.

* * *

Dinner is not quite the awkward affair that Ryuji imagined it would be, but that's isn't to say it's enjoyable either. He spends the majority of the meal shoving his food around on the plate, willing himself to eat. Akira and his mother carry the dinnertime conversation. Ryuji doesn't have to do much more than occasionally chime in or grunt in agreement.

After dinner, Akira goes to shower and Ryuji's mother excuses herself to the living room. Ryuji half expects her to corner him in the kitchen, but he's saved by the grace of cable programming. Watching her weekly drama takes full precedence over interrogating her son. Ryuji contents himself with washing up the dinner dishes.

Above the kitchen sink, there's a small window that overlooks the neighbor's garden. The glass is cracked, covered by a few well-placed pieces of duct tape. Ryuji shakes dishwater off his right hand and reaches up to trace his fingers over it. He can feel the ridge, where the glass split apart but didn't shatter. His body tenses, ghosts of fears he thought were long forgotten. If he turns around, he can easily imagine his father's figure standing in the doorway.

“Ryuji.”

Ryuji doesn't mean to, but he jumps. When he turns around it's not his father in the doorway, but Akira. His normally wild and untamed hair is neatly combed back away from his face. Ryuji stares. Akira always looks so vastly different without his hair down.

“Thank you for the shower,” Akira says in a low tone. His eyes flicker up towards the taped window, burning with curiosity. There're questions that he doesn't ask, but Ryuji can tell that he wants to.

“No problem, man,” Ryuji replies, turning back to the sink. He's disappointed to find that there's nothing left for him to wash. “I'll get the couch set up for you.”

“Er, there's a slight problem with that,” Akira inclines his head towards the living room, moving to the side to give Ryuji a clear view. Ryuji's mother is sprawled out over the couch, fast asleep in front of the TV again. “I think I wore her out.”

“Probably. She gets over-excited.”

“I can see where you get all your energy from.”

“Don't know if that's a compliment for her or an insult for me,” Ryuji grumbles. He dries his hands on a kitchen towel and goes to fetch his mother a blanket. “Let her sleep. I'll throw a futon down in my room and you can take my bed.”

“Are you sure?” Akira asks. “I don't mind sleeping on the futon.”

“Ma will kill me if I make a guest sleep on the floor. It's all good.”

Akira seems unsatisfied with this resolution, but Ryuji ignores him.

After setting up the futon, Ryuji moves into the bathroom to get ready for bed. He takes his time, brushing twice, flossing. He wastes as much time as he can, hoping that Akira will be asleep by the time he's finished. Maybe then they won't have time to talk.  
  
No such luck.

“You have interesting taste in manga,” Akira comments as Ryuji enters the bedroom. He's sitting up in bed with a volume open in his lap, hardly looking up as he makes to turn the page.

“Oh yeah? What about it's so weird?” Ryuji pushes some boxes out of the way with his foot before settling himself down on the futon.

“For one, I didn't expect you to be into shoujo-”

“Give me that!” Ryuji leaps towards the bed, horror icing his veins. He seizes the book from Akira's hands and impulsively chucks it across the room. It bounces off the wall and disappears behind a stack of old clothes. “Th-That-That was something Ann loaned me that I forgot to return to her!”

“Did she loan you the entire collection?” Akira asks, gesturing with his hand towards the box he pulled the book out of.

“Of course! I'm shitty at rememberin' to give stuff back.”

There a brief pause and then Akira starts laughing, wholehearted and apparently uncontrolled. Ryuji stares at him, so shocked to see the unusual break in composure.

“Stop laughing'!” Ryuji demands, even though it's obvious that Akira couldn't even if he wanted to. “C'mon man! You'll wake up my mom howling like that.”

“Sorry,” Akira says around a wheeze. He's red-faced, eyes glossy with moisture. “Your reaction-”

“Stop makin' fun of me,” Ryuji swallows hard as his own face begins to feel warm. Carefully he crawls up onto the foot of the bed, hunched like a vulture so that he can keep an eye on Akira. “You're not gonna suffocate or somethin', right?”

“I have no idea.”

“You better not.”

“Wouldn't want to have to give me CPR, huh?” Akira leans forward some, grinning like a devil.

“I'd let you run out of breath,” Ryuji counters, narrowing his eyes. They stare at each other until it starts to become awkward. Ryuji slides down off of the bed and sets about settling into his futon.

“The way your mother talks about the past is interesting.”

“Yeah? In what way?”

“Sort of like your father just... Didn't exist.”

Ryuji's back goes rigid. “Why're you bringing him up?”

“It was just something I noticed,” Akira says in a soft tone. “He's not in any of the photos she showed me earlier either.”

“Yeah, he wasn't much of a 'take my picture' kinda guy. He didn't think much of us, so he probably didn't want to make himself look bad by bein' in a family picture.”

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up.”

“It's fine. It was a long time ago,” Ryuji sighs, though the tension still sits between his shoulders. “It's hard listenin' to my mom tell all those old stories. I don't remember a lot of them. They make it sound like I had this blissfully happy childhood.”

“It wasn't happy?” Akira wonders.

“I mean, maybe. I don't remember those parts of it though. I just remember bein' scared. Then somewhere along the way it morphed into anger.”

“I can't imagine what you went through,” Akira says levelly. “But I know what it feels like to be angry beyond control.”

“Yeah?” Ryuji settles back against his pillow. “You don't seem like someone who gets angry very often. Those people are usually the scariest when they're pissed off.”

“Exactly, so you better watch out.”

“Y'aren't gonna scare me,” Ryuji huffs in amusement. His mood is quick to sober up. “I wish you hadn't come here.”

“I know,” Akira replies. He shifts around, trying to get comfortable. Once he finally settles in he half-whispers, “I want you to give me another chance.”

“Hell no!” Ryuji's anger flares up, a burning hot feeling inside his chest. He grips angrily at the blankets he's lying under. “You can't roll up and expect me to welcome you with open arms.”

“You haven't given me a chance to explain anything.”

“I'm not having the same damn conversation all over again. I don't need explanations! Turn the damn light off.”

“Ryuji-”

“Fine! I'll do it myself!” Ryuji throws back the cover on his futon. He lifts himself high enough off the floor to catch the pull cord on his lamp. “Go the fuck to sleep.”

Ryuji settles himself down again and spends a few minutes just trying to breathe. Blood rushes through his ears and his pulse pounds steadily at the edge of his brow. He can hear Akira above him, shifting around in the sheets again. Ryuji knows he's not being fair, but Akira showing up out of the blue feels pretty unfair too.

“I'm sorry,” Akira whispers, so quiet that Ryuji wonders if it's imagined.

If it's real, he ignores it.   
  
* * *

The next morning, despite Ryuji's protests, the trio are gearing up to go ice-skating. Ryuji's mother refused to listen to either man's excuses, no matter how many they sling at her. She's as stubborn as her son, if not more so.   
  
Bundled up for the cold weather, they head out the door and over to her car.

“Oh, the donation boxes,” Ryuji's mother says, spotting them in the backseat. “I had forgotten about them.”

“Welp! Guess we can't go!” Ryuji turns toe to head back into the house, but his mother catches hold of the collar on his jacket.

“We can unload the boxes. It won't take long with three of us.”

“No way! I unload those boxes, and they'll never make it to the donation center!”

“What a pity that would be,” she sighs, though her voice sounds dreamy instead of disappointed.

“We can take my car,” Akira suggests. Ryuji gives him a cold look, but Akira is slow to catch on. Lack of transportation was their last chance to get out of going, and he just blew it.

“Thanks a lot,” Ryuji grumbles to him in passing.

The car parked outside of the driveway is a complete shock to Ryuji's eyes. It's not the sleek black sports car he was expecting, but a plum-colored sedan. It looks old, older than even his mother's car.

“Fuck,” Ryuji says, looking at the vehicle with disdain. “I know there ain't a lot of options around the holidays, but I can't believe the rental company gave you... That.”

“It's not as bad as it looks,” Akira assures him, though Ryuji continues to have his doubts. The inside is at least nice or would have been for its time maybe. The seats are leather and the interior has bits of faux polished chrome. It's so old it lacks even something as simple as a CD player. Almost a full minute goes by before Ryuji identifies the strange box above the radio dial.

“Is that for cassette tapes?” He asks.

“Ryuji, stop being so nasty,” His mother scolds, reaching up from the back seat to ruffle his hair.

“I'm not bein' nasty. I'm just... How old is this car?”

“Ninety-one, I think,” Akira says, almost shrugging. “Yeah, it plays cassettes.”

“Holy shit.”

“Ryuji!” his mother hisses again. It's as good of a warning as he'll get before she goes full mom on him. He doesn't want to have to deal with the embarrassment, so he decides to drop the subject for the time being.

Following verbal directions from Ryuji, Akira drives them to the skating pond. It isn't crowded when they get there. Most of the local kids are still sleeping off their New Years festival induced comas. The few that did manage to show up look half bored already. They'll likely be gone by the time Ryuji's group makes it onto the ice.

Seeing the rink brings up memories of skating in California. Ryuji lingers inside the car for a moment, trying not to get swept up by his emotions. It was a good memory, he stubbornly reminds himself. Akira is standing outside with his mother, looking at the rink with trepidation in his eyes. It was the same back then, and despite himself, Ryuji smiles a bit.

“I won't let you fall,” Ryuji tells him as he exits the car. Akira's head swivels around to look at him, gray eyes wide with surprise. The two of them have hardly spoken all morning, outside of Ryuji's frequent snide comments. The sudden shift in Ryuji's mood is obviously giving some whiplash. “Er, I mean I won't let you fall 'again.'”

“Again?” Ryuji's mother prompts, nosy as ever.

“We went skatin' in Cali.”

“Oh, that's right! You did tell me that.”

Akira scowls, “I haven't had time to brush up on my skills since then. I should sit this one out-”

“Don't worry, I'll have you spinning like a ballerina before lunch,” Ryuji goads, taking his skates from his mother's outstretched arms. He offers Akira his spare pair and then strolls off towards the ice. Akira falls for the taunt. Hot on Ryuji's heels he's determined to prove himself. Or to prove Ryuji wrong. It works both ways.

“I'm going to break something on purpose and then charge it to your insurance,” Akira threatens in a low tone. The two of them sit down at the edge of the ice and begin lacing their skates.

“Probably will, what with that crap lacing job.”

“I'm lacing them badly on purpose. You'll be paying my medical bills for months.”

“Wait for me-” Ryuji's mother tries in vain to catch up to them, but the two men are already ambling to their feet. Akira falls almost right away, sliding towards the center of the lake. Ryuji skates circles around him, offering no assistance in helping him back up. If Akira wants to play games, Ryuji can play games.

“Did you break any bones yet?” Ryuji asks, coming to a stop just out of Akira's arms reach.

“Not yet,” Akira shoots back, hands sliding over the slick surface of the ice. He can't get enough traction to actually stand himself back up.

“Ryuji! Help him up!” Even from the edge of the rink, his mother's voice is loud enough to be threatening. He sighs and slides himself forward, offering Akira one of his hands. When Akira reaches up to take it, Ryuji jerks it away, grinning, “Too slow.”

“You're going to upset your mother,” Akira says calmly. It's a low blow, but true. With a long sigh, Ryuji reaches down again and allows Akira to take hold of him. Through no small amount of struggling, they manage to get him back up onto his feet.

“You're embarrassin' me y'know,” Ryuji sighs, shaking his head. “C'mon, I'll help you.”

“You sure?” Akira asks, eyes wide with surprise. “I don't mind going back to arguing-”

“Nah man, it's gonna upset my mom.”

“Is that the only reason...?”

“Er, no,” Ryuji admits, averting his eyes some. He chooses his next set of words carefully, as the fight from last night is still clear inside his mind. It's been haunting him all morning. “I've been thinkin' that I was too hard on you last night. I haven't given you a chance to tell me anything or explain.”

“I agree,” Akira says flatly. “Turn off the hostility for a bit and let me talk to you.”

“I will, just... Here ain't the best place.”

“When we get back to your house.”

“Yeah,” Ryuji agrees. “I promise. Let's call a truce for now.”

“Thank you,” Akira breathes, sounding relieved. He bumps his head lightly against Ryuji's. “Teach me to skate.”

Ryuji shies away, embarrassed by the sudden affection, “Take my hand. I'll teach you the Sakamoto special skating technique.”

“Ooooh~ You're going to teach him that one?” Ryuji's mother has finally caught up with them. She's grinning widely at Ryuji, having witnessed the final part of their exchange. If he was embarrassed before, he's mortified now. His mother will no doubt harass him about it later.

“You should help me,” Ryuji tells her. “This guy is real hopeless.”

* * *

Almost the moment they return from the lake, Ryuji's mother ropes them all into making New Year's mochi. Not that Ryuji is actually complaining. He's been looking forward to this yearly tradition since his arrival.

She sets them up in the kitchen, showing them how to prepare the dough and the proper way to knead it. They add various flavors to the mixes, matcha, strawberry, vanilla, until the entire kitchen smells like a sweets shop.

“It's harder than I thought it would be,” Akira admits. His chunk of the dough is looking especially lumpy. Especially when its compared to Ryuji's. His is pounded to seamless perfection.

“You gotta put your back into it,” Ryuji explains, hitting his dough with a few sharp downward punches. The dough bounces back but Akira cringes away. “Whoa, sorry. I didn't mean't'a scare you.”

“You didn't.”

“Could'a fooled me with the way you jumped.”

“It isn't that. I'm wondering what bad things from last year you put into those two punches,” Akira explains. “Hoping they don't have anything to do with me.”

“What?”

“Remember? You told me you and your mom pound out all the bad things from the year before.”

“Oh yeah, I did say that. But you weren't-” Ryuji pauses, eyes scanning sideways. His mother is distracted by something on TV, or so it seems. Still, his words are far too embarrassing to say. He doesn't want her to hear them on off chance. “Let's go to my room.”

“What about my,” Akira pauses to look down at his pathetic creation. “Can I even call this mochi?”

“You go wash your hands. I'll see if my mom can fix it somehow.”

“Good luck to her,” Akira says with a snort. Holding his hands out in front of himself, he makes his way to the bathroom to wash up.

“Ma, we're all done,” Ryuji calls out, catching her attention. “Gonna take a break and let the dough rest for a bit.”

“You want me to set yours in the fridge?” She wonders, standing up to come into the kitchen and see the results. “What-...”

“Yeah, his didn't turn out so well. Do you think you can try to save it?”

“I can try.”

“Cool, thanks Ma,” Ryuji leans over to kiss her on the forehead before spinning off towards kitchen sink. He washes his hands clean and then goes into his bedroom. Pausing in the doorway, he feels a rush of overwhelming trepidation. What should he be expecting? Another fight? “Hey, man. Uh... Is this the part where we talk?”

“That's up to you,” Akira says, glancing up. “I'm ready if you are.”

“Ain't ever gonna be ready, but we might as well,” Ryuji shrugs as he walks into the room. He takes a seat on the bed, leaving a gap of space between the two of them.

“What were you going to say in the kitchen?”

“Huh? Oh, that... Uh.”

“You don't have to-”

“I was gonna say,” Ryuji begins in a soft tone. “Being with you wasn't something bad. Actually, it was kind of the best thing that happened to me last year.”

“It was the best thing for me too,” Akira agrees, his lips quirking up at the corners.

“'Course it was for you!” Ryuji counters with a shy grin. “You uh, had that big crush on me, right? It's weird to think about that. I'm not the sort of person people get crushes on.”

“You've got a lot of good qualities.”

“Oh yeah? Name one.”

“You're kind,” Akira says without hesitation.

“Sure as hell wasn't kind last night,” Ryuji grumbles, averting his eyes. “I'm real sorry about how I've acted.”

“Everyone has a breaking point.”

“Yeah, but that's no excuse.”

“You're honest,” Akira goes on, bypassing Ryuji's words completely. “A little too honest sometimes, but not without merit. You're good at making friends. No one in our department that has anything bad to say about you.”

“C'mon man. You've got rose-colored glasses on,” Ryuji sighs with a slight shake of his head. There's a brief pause before he adds, “...Can you keep them on a little longer? I don't want you to hate me.”

“That's pretty much impossible you know.”

“I dunno, you haven't seen the worst of me yet.”

“You don't have to be so hard on yourself,” Akira tells him in a gentle tone. “No one is perfect. I've made a lot of mistakes in all this too.”

“Did you admit to making a mistake?” Ryuji asks, gripping his chest in mock horror.

“Don't make me take back what I said about you being kind.”

“Okay, okay, I'm only kiddin'!” Ryuji laughs and for the first time in days, it feels genuine. “I'm glad you're here. Whatever I said before- I was just mad. Don't believe any of it.”

“I'll forgive you if you forgive me,” Akira says, running a hand back through his hair. “I'm sorry for being so hot and cold. And for not being honest about how I felt. Also that I hurt you. I never ever wanted to do that.”

“I forgive you, man.”

Like two opposite poles on a magnet, they draw closer to each other.

“You gonna go 'n break the rules again?” Ryuji asks breathlessly. Akira's hand comes up to cup the side of his face, pulling him in.

“Yep,” Akira murmurs, closing out the final inch or so that remains between them.

Ryuji's heart leaps up into his chest at the feeling of Akira's lips against his. He moves forward, practically seating himself in the other man's lap in order to deepen the kiss. Ryuji wraps his arms around Akira, pressing down on his back to urge them even closer. They fall back against the bed, Akira on top, kissing Ryuji as if his life depends on it. Maybe in some crazy cosmic way, it does.

“I thought you said we couldn't do things like this,” Ryuji says as they break apart. He's panting and breathless. “We're coworkers. We can't do these kinds of things. That's what you said.”

“I did,” Akira agrees, sitting back some on the bed. “Only we're not coworkers anymore.”

“...You mean right now? Until we go back?”

“I mean I quit.”

“You quit?!” Ryuji sits up, body coursing with disbelief. “Why? Why would you do that? Was it because we-”

“No, it's got nothing to do with us,” Akira assures him, holding up a hand to prevent further questions. “Someone once told me that I needed to make a U-turn with my life.”

“That was in the heat of the moment. I never intended for you to quit-”

“Ryuji,” Akira says his name firmly, pulling his attention back. “Let me finish. A long time ago, after I left Le Blanc, left Sojiro and Futaba, I decided that I wasn't allowed to have anything good again. That I didn't deserve anything else because I gave up the best thing that had ever happened to me.”

“Fake friends and slogging my way up the corporate ladder was as good as it was going to get for me,” he pauses long enough to wrap his hands around Ryuji's. Despite washing, some rice flour still clings to their skin. Ryuji fixates on that sight, too shy to meet Akira's gaze. “It's true I had a crush on you. And that crush got me feeling like I wanted to chase after something again. Except, obviously, I didn't know how to go about doing that.”   
  
“Then I met you, _really_ met you on that trip. I was sure that I had found something to go after again. What we had in California... It was so good. It's still good. I've just been afraid, because I wasn't sure if I was allowed to be happy with you.”

“But that isn't why I quit my job,” Akira presses, giving Ryuji's hands a gentle squeeze. “That life I was living, that person I had become, you saw beyond all that. I had been forcing myself to live in a cage and you encouraged me to want something more for myself. I'm trying to learn to accept that I do deserve to find things for myself that bring me happiness and fulfillment.”

“I didn't realize how important you were to me until after you left. Until after I thought I had lost you,” Akira pauses to take a deep breath. “Can I break rule 8? Can I fall in love with you?”

Ryuji can't stop the rush of heat to his face, nor the way his lips turn up into a smile. Akira's words are cheesy and embarrassing, but completely effective.

“You might as well,” Ryuji says mischievously, glancing up, “I broke rule 7 all the way back at the resort. It's about time you caught up to me.”

“Oh? Rule 7? I can't remember what that one was.” Ryuji's face goes slack, at least until he catches the crooked smile forming on Akira's face.

“Eff you, you totally remember.” Akira laughs and Ryuji can't help joining him.

Then they're kissing again and Ryuji's head spins with delight and giddy shock. The moment ends abruptly when his mom lets herself into the room. “The mochi dough is ready now-” She stops short in the doorway, her eyes wide. When they turn to look at her, she flutters back out into the hallway like a nervous bird. “Sorry! Sorry!” Her apologies ring down the hallway as she quickly excuses herself.

“She never was good with knocking,” Ryuji grumbles, thoroughly embarrassed. He'll have to deal with that later. “What now? Are you gonna find another job?”

“Well,” Akira sighs, rolling onto his back. His long curled bangs fall away from his face and Ryuji can't resist shifting to get a better look. Akira catches him staring, but doesn't comment on it. “I should be okay to pay rent since I sold my car.”

“You sold your car?! Why?!”

“What? You didn't know? ...What did you think the car in your driveway was?”

“I don't know!” Ryuji exclaims with a shrug. “A rental?”

“There's not a rental company in the world that would stock such a shoddy piece of junk.”

“You really sold your sports car?! But you bought that with your first big bonus.”

Akira sighs at the memory, “I know, but I had to have money for a fallback plan.”

“You could have at least bought something more...” Ryuji waves his hands vaguely to parse the words he's looking for. “Something that isn't a piece of crap.”

“Hey,” Akira huffs. “Don't call my car a piece of crap.”

“You were the one calling it a shoddy piece of junk!”

“Only I can insult it.”

“C'mon man,” Ryuji groans, leaning over to set his head down atop Akira's chest. Against his forehead, he can feel the steady beat of the other man's heart. “So you sold your car.”

“I went to Le Blanc and had a long talk with Sojiro,” Akira explains, absently running a hand through Ryuji's hair. “I'm going to work at the cafe again. If things go well, I can move on to earning his trust back. If they go bad, then, I guess I'll have to sell all my belongings and move in with you.”

“What?!” Ryuji turns his head to the side to stare at Akira through narrowed eyes. “You saw my apartment. You know I live in the slums of Tokyo. Rich boy like you shows up there, and they'll take you for everything your worth. Clothes, money, organs.”

“My organs...?”

“You're not movin' in with me.”

“You're going to let your boyfriend live on the streets?” Akira says with a soft bubble of laughter. Ryuji sits upright to stare at him, eyebrows raised.

“Boyfriend?” Ryuji mouths the word like he's trying to sound out the phonetics of it. Akira seems to become aware of what he's said. He sits up too, looking at Ryuji with wide and uncertain eyes.

“I understand what I'm asking. Two men together is...”

“Nah, it's not that,” Ryuji assures him. “I'm just trying it out. Seein' how it sounds.”

“And?”

Ryuji grins, “It's a'right. I'll get used to it. Was Kawakami mad when you told her you were quitting?” Ryuji wonders.

“She was pissed at first,” Akira murmurs. “Then she started to panic. Then she begged.”

“Yikes. I can't imagine her doing that.”

“I'm sure it's a big loss for the company, but... Somehow I don't care? It's surreal.”

“I think you made the right choice,” Ryuji presses. “You're right with what you said before. You do deserve to be happy.”

“Right now, I'm the happiest I've ever been,” Akira whispers.

“Me too,” Ryuji replies. He can hardly believe that it's come to this, that they're finally together. For days he had felt like he was holding his breath, waiting in anticipation for something. He never would have imagined it would be this.

Ryuji pulls them both back down to the mattress and a while they don't say anything else. Akira's hands follow a long trail down Ryuji's body, from his jaw to his neck, collar bones to chest, stomach to hips. It should probably feel sexual, but instead, it's just relaxing. He doesn't go any further, things like that can come along at a slower pace.

“I talked to my mom too,” Akira says suddenly, breaking the spell. Ryuji opens his eyes, having not realized he shut them in the first place.

“How'd it go?” Ryuji asks gently.

“It was good. Turns out they moved to Tokyo a year or two back. They didn't want to pressure me to come home but were hoping they might run into me someday. I'm not sure how to feel about that.”

“You got time to decide how to feel about it.”

“I know. It's sort of nice to know that they were still thinking about me.” Akira sighs softly. “They want me to go to Italy with them this summer. We have a villa there.”

  
“Y'gonna go?”   
  
“I'm not sure. I have to really think about it.”   
  


“Maybe someday, when you're ready, you can meet up with them,” Ryuji suggests, earning a shy smile from Akira. “Then you can talk to them about the whole Italy thing.”

“Thank you,” Akira says softly. “You always seem to know what to say.”

“I don't know about that, but in any case, you're welcome. I'm glad I could be helpful,” Ryuji mutters, face still burning. Desperate for a topic change, if only to calm his overexcited heart, he asks, “You hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“C'mon then,” Ryuji rolls himself upright to spring off the bed and onto his feet. He extends a hand to Akira who takes hold of it and stands. “We can eat some mochi instead of just hitting it.”

* * *

Like all good vacations, this one ends far too soon. Standing outside of Akira's car, bags loaded into the trunk, Ryuji hugs his mother goodbye. She's trying not to cry, though he can see the way her eyes keep glazing over.

“Maaa,” Ryuji sighs, tightening his hold on her. “I'll come back and visit soon. I won't let two years go by like I did before. I promise.”

“I know, I know,” she insists, though her voice still sounds like it's wavering.

“C'mon. What'll everyone think if the Yellow Viper is seen crying over her son like this?”

“Yellow Viper?” Akira wonders.

“Yeah,” Ryuji shrugs as he pulls away from his mother's embrace. He brushes his thumbs gently over the edges of her eyes, smoothing away the moisture there. “My mom used to be in a motorcycle gang when she was in high school. That was her nickname.”

“...Come again?”

“Ryuji! Don't tell him that!” his mother swats at his hands. “It's ancient history! Besides, I've settled down a lot since then. I'm a proper member of society now.”

“Are you two making some kind of inside joke?” Akira asks, his expression adorably baffled.

“No man, it's for real. She really was part of a gang,” Ryuji tells him. “I've got the photos of her to prove it back at my place in Tokyo.”

“You took those to Tokyo?!” his mother exclaims. “Why would you do that?!”

“Because they're cool?”

“It's not 'cool' to embarrass your mother by passing those around.”

“She acts like it bothers her, but she's always showin' them off,” Ryuji murmurs to Akira.

“I can see where you get your... Quirky personality from,” Akira replies. It earns them both a sharp look from Ryuji's mother.

“I'll be back,” Ryuji says, trying to steer them towards a different topic. “I've got to meet this Dojima guy-cop-boyfriend of yours, remember?”

“Akira will come with you?” his mother wonders, moving over to hug Akira. “You'll come back to visit, right?”

“I will, I promise,” Akira assures her, smiling brightly.

“Why do I get the feeling that you're more upset about him leaving than you own son?” Ryuji says with a scowl.

“I can't help the effect I have on people,” Akira says, smile morphing into a smirk. He gives Ryuji's mom a gentle kiss on the cheek. “I'll take good care of him.”

“W-What the hell, man?!”

“Thank you,” his mother replies sonorously. Akira pulls away, flashing his mischief filled eyes before getting into the car.

“So, I take it you two are... Okay now?” Ryuji's mother asks, keeping her tone low. She's been strategically meek about asking questions, especially after walking in on them the day before. Ryuji supposes that her embarrassment overrode her need for gossip. “I don't want to assume anything, but you look so happy now.”

“We're good,” Ryuji tells her honestly. “He and I have at least decided to actually give the whole datin' thing a try. He uh, found another job.”

“Another job?! He must be pretty serious about you then.”

“I can't really believe it yet myself.”

“Take things slowly,” she tells him in a gentle tone. “Call me when you get back to Tokyo.”

“I will, Ma. Take care of yourself,” with one last parting hug, Ryuji climbs into the car. His mother watches them go, standing at the end of the driveway until they've moved out of sight. “Fuck, I hate leaving her.”

“I really enjoyed meeting her,” Akira says, smiling at Ryuji as they pull up to a stoplight. “She's different from the woman who raised me, but in a good way. I like to think my birth mother might have been something like her.”

“She likes you,” Ryuji says, glowing from Akira's high praise. “You got her full seal of approval to date me.”

“It probably sounds foolish, but that means a lot.”

“It ain't foolish. It means a lot to me too.”

The light changes and they're on their way again. Ryuji stares out the window, watching his hometown pass by. It feels different leaving it for a second time, especially now that his future seems so wide open. He glances at Akira and a swell of warmth builds up inside his chest. He never could have imagined things would work out for the two of them.

“Y'got any tapes for this thing?” Ryuji asks, tapping the cassette player. “I guess we could always use the radio.”

“There're tapes under your seat. No idea what they are though,” Akira says with a grin. “Only one way to find out, huh?”

Ryuji reaches under the seat to find a small plastic box. Inside is dozens of cassette tapes, bearing the names of artists that Ryuji has never heard of. He flips through them all until he finds something that catches his attention. He pushes the tape into the player and settles back into his seat.

They're hours away from Tokyo, listening to bad eighty's pop music, and yet there's nowhere Ryuji would rather be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And in true Hallmark Movie style, they lived happily ever after.


	8. Afterwards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little thing to tie up loose ends! <3

**6 Months Later**   
  


* * *

  
**Ryuji**  
  
It's nearly four in the afternoon when Ryuji gets out of his meeting with Kawakami. He exits her office in a rush, nearly bowing over a short red-headed woman. She bristles at him with a soft hiss, ducking nimbly out of his way.  
  
“You're going to miss your flight,” She leers at him, hot on his heels as he heads towards his desk.  
  
“I know, I know,” Ryuji grumbles, thumbing through a stack of files on his desk. A plane ticket is sticking out of the corner of one of them. He cuts his thumb on the thin edge as he fishes it out. Sucking at the blood he turns to stomp towards the exit. Futaba keeps pace with him as he rounds the corner and heads towards the elevators.  
  
On the ground floor, Ryuji and Futaba sprint out of the building. Sojiro is outside in his car waiting for them, and Ryuji can tell by his face he's not happy.  
  
“What took so damn long?” He demands as they clamber in.  
  
“Sorry, I got stuck in a meeting,” Ryuji explains, struggling with his seat belt.  
  
“Are you going to make your flight?”  
  
“I don't know! Just drive!” When Sojiro gives him a sharp look, Ryuji hastily tacks on, “Boss, please. I can't miss this flight.”  
  
“Wouldn't be in a hurry if you had left on time,” he grumbles as he puts the car into gear. “Akira is supposed to meet you there?”  
  
“Yeah, he's flying in from Italy.”  
  
“Italy, America, when is he going to come back and actually do some work for a change?”  
  
“You're complaining, but weren't you the one who told him that he needed to reconnect with his parents?” Futaba leans forward and pokes her head up between the headrests.  
  
“I did,” Sojiro says in a measured voice. “Didn't know that translated to running off to Europe for a month.”  
  
“I got a promotion,” Ryuji says offhand, silencing the bickering between Sojiro and Futaba.  
  
“What?!” Both of them turn to look at him.  
  
“Pay attention to the road,” Ryuji supplies helpfully. “That's why the meeting ran so late.”  
  
“What kind of promotion was it?!” Futaba asks, bouncing around in the backseat. “I didn't hear anything about a promotion and I normally know about them before anyone else.”  
  
“Yeah, because you hack the system,” Ryuji teases. “Kawakami just kind of dumped it on me as I was leaving. When I get back from vacation, I'm moving up to project manager and head photographer.”  
  
“What?! You're takin' over Akira's old job? Ooooh, he's going to love this!”  
  
“Don't say anything. I want to be the one to tell him.”  
  
“I won't. Congratulations by the way!”  
  
“'bout time they promoted you,” Sojiro grumbles. That's as close to a 'congratulations' as Ryuji is going to get, but he'll take it.  
  
Sojiro, to put it bluntly, is still not overly thrilled with Ryuji and Akira's relationship. He had dozens of doubts in the beginning and it seems he's come up with new ones in the six months since. Ryuji's been treading carefully, trying to slowly earn the older man's trust. He's only just started to see that Sojiro has a softer side hidden under his gruff exterior.  
  
“Try to get a photo of him when you tell him. I wanna see the look on his face,” Futaba says. “You can message it to me.”  
  
Futaba on the other had warmed to Ryuji like a bee to flowers. She's been his almost constant companion during Akira's month away. Her personality and Ryuji's clicked better than he could have imagined. He's never had a sibling before, but it's easy to feel like Futaba's the next best thing.  
  
“I'll try,” Ryuji tells her as they pull up to the airport's curbside drop off. “Thanks for bringing my bags by and giving me a ride.”  
  
“Sure,” Sojiro says with a shrug. “Don't let him get away from you. I'm expecting you to drag his ass back here so I can put him to work.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Ryuji steps out of the car and moves to get his bags out of the back seat. While he unloads them, Futaba gets out to sit up front with Sojiro. She rolls down the window and leans out of it, waving a hand around until Ryuji notices her.  
  
“Don't forget about the action figures. You promised to look for them,” Futaba tells him. Ryuji lifts a hand to ruffle her hair.  
  
“I won't forget. See you guys in a week.”  
  
Passing on a final word of farewell, Ryuji turns on his toes and rushes into the airport.  
  
* * *  
  
Los Angeles is as crowded as Ryuji remembers it. Even more so now that it's the middle of summer. He practically has to swim through a sea of bodies to get to the baggage claim. It takes even longer to find his way to the unloading area for international flights. He's supposed to meet up with Akira there, but there's been no sign of him yet.  
  
Ryuji shifts from foot to foot, trying to ward off an encroaching sense of nervous anticipation. It's not like this is the first time they've been apart like this. Due to his promotion at Metaverse, Ryuji's been traveling more and more often. It wasn't uncommon to have to leave town for a shoot two or three times a month.  
  
But something about this time is different. Akira is the one who went away, off to spend time with his parents at their villa in Italy. Ryuji, Futaba, and Sojiro all encouraged him to go for it. Although Ryuji might have been a bit less enthusiastic had he known they would have to be apart for a month.  
  
Ryuji has spent weeks worrying over the outcome. He and Akira kept in as much contact as they could, what with time differences and busy schedules. It wasn't uncommon for them to go days without speaking more than a few words. Ryuji's trying to quell his anxiety over the whole ordeal, but he can't help assuming the worst.  
  
What if Akira and his parents fought the whole time?  
  
What if he's decided to move away to be closer to them?  
  
What if he wants to break up?  
  
Ryuji shakes his head, trying to scatter the invasive thoughts.  
  
 _Just trust him,_ Ryuji reminds himself. After all, it's not likely that Akira would invite him out for a week-long vacation just to break up with him after.  
  
A tall head of messy black hair appears above a crowd offloading from one of the flights. Even without being able to clearly see the face, Ryuji knows it's Akira. He'd know that bed-head hairstyle anywhere.  
  
Akira breaks free of the crowd and he looks dazzling, despite the fact that he just spent the last twelve hours on a plane. His skin has tanned from all his time spent out in the Tuscan sun and his hair is at least a full inch longer. When he spots Ryuji he smiles and lifts a hand in greeting.  
  
Ryuji can feel his face burning and it only gets worse the closer they get to each other. Akira crosses the final distance at a near jog. He drops his bags in favor of throwing his arms around Ryuji's neck. The two of them nearly topple over from the force of the impact.  
  
“Fuck, I missed you,” Akira sighs, halfway choking Ryuji in his enthusiasm.  
  
“Man, I missed you too,” Ryuji laughs, hooking his arms around Akira's waist to haul him closer. They hold each other like that for a while, until Ryuji's shy nature gets the better of him. He pulls away, running a hand back through his hair. “You look good.”  
  
“You look better,” Akira compliments with another broad grin.  
  
Ryuji lets out of breath of disbelief, “I've seen my self in a mirror, man. I know I look rough.”  
  
“Was your flight bad?”  
  
“I've had worse. Yours?”  
  
“Of course. First-class all the way.” Akira brings a hand up in a mock gesture of holding a wine glass. “There was plenty of alcohol to keep everyone comfortable.”  
  
“Eff you,” Ryuji snarks. He reaches up to run his hands gently through Akira's hair, admiring it's added length. “Your hair got so damn long. Looks nice, though.”  
  
“It's annoying in the hot weather, even if I tie it back. I might end up getting a trim to save myself from overheating.” Akira leans into Ryuji's touch. “Unless you have any protests against it.”  
  
“I have some,” Ryuji confesses, combing his fingers through the curled ends. “Here, before I forget... Let me take a picture of you to send to Futaba.”  
  
“Oh, sure,” Akira takes a step back as Ryuji pulls out his phone.  
  
Ryuji lifts the device up and waits for the camera to focus. Boldly he proclaims, “By the way, I got promoted to project manager.”  
  
Click.  
  
Priceless.  
  
“What?!” Akira's face is slack with shock. “When did that happen?!”  
  
“Right before I left,” Ryuji laughs as Akira pulls him into another hug. This one comes complete with a rough noogie to the top of his head. “Hey, hey! Lemme go!”  
  
“Don't go taking weird photos of me,” Akira retorts, releasing him. They're making a scene, catching the eye of a few of the airplane's straggling passengers. The attention is of course no bother to Akira, who continues unhindered. “I've got something I want to show you.”  
  
“Huh? Alright.”  
  
Akira kneels down and begins digging inside his carry-on bag. The way he's crouched down looks an awful like a proposal. Ryuji tugs at the collar of the tank top he's got on. Fanning himself with the material he breathes deeply to calm down. Akira's hands emerge moments later, not with a ring of course, but with a magazine.  
  
“Do you know what this is?” Akira asks, holding it up proudly.  
  
“A travel magazine?” Ryuji intones, staring at the front cover. There's something familiar about the snowy landscape featured behind the title text...It hits him suddenly. His voice shoots up to exclaim, “That's the magazine with the article about our original trip!”  
  
“It is,” Akira croons. “The one where you wrote all those things about how romantic it was and how you couldn't wait to go back there with your partner.”  
  
Ryuji's face feels like fire. “You read it?! Why?!”  
  
“Why wouldn't I?”  
  
“You weren't supposed to ever see that! I just... All that stuff was fluffy journalism... Ann helped me write it!”  
  
“You don't have to be embarrassed,” Akira continues with a crooked smile. “Maybe this winter we can go back there and relive the magic.”  
  
“Hell no. Not a fuckin' chance,” Ryuji gathers his bags and turns on his toes to leave. He can hear Akira behind him, chuckling in amusement. “I barely remember what I wrote. That was months ago. It was probably all a lie.”  
  
“You gave it nine stars out of ten. Deducting a star for the whole getting stuck on the chair lift thing.”  
  
“Sorry, my memory must be goin'. I don't remember any of it.”  
  
“I think it's nice,” Akira says, tone suddenly serious. When Ryuji turns to look at him, all the impishness from earlier is gone. “That place is special to me. We might not have gotten to know each other if not for that assignment.”  
  
Ryuji grumbles, “Fine, I admit it. It's special to me too and I'd like to go back sometime, but,”  
  
“But?”  
  
“Now that I've admitted that, you have to throw that magazine away.”  
  
“No way,” Akira's eyebrows shoot up and his expression turns haughty. “I'm framing it.”  
  
“Akira, I swear to god-”  
  
“My parents have a copy too. I showed it to them while I was there.”  
  
Ryuji drops his bags as his soul slips free of his body, “You didn't. Tell me you didn't show them that.”  
  
“I did. They thought it was really nice.”  
  
It takes Ryuji a full two minutes to get over that mental block before he can continue. Akira coaxes him to regather his bags and the two of them continue on their way through the airport.  
  
“So they're uh, okay with us?” Ryuji wonders as they enter an elevator. They're the only passengers going down and it's nice to be alone for a moment.  
  
“It was actually embarrassing.” Akira laughs slightly. “After I told them, they both got really emotional. Asking if that's why I left, because I thought they wouldn't accept my sexuality. I think they would have preferred it to be that over the truth. They didn't like hearing that their expectations were what drove me away.”  
  
“Did you guys fight?” Ryuji asks gently, moving closer to bump his shoulder against one of Akira's.  
  
“No. It was all very civil. They regret a lot of things.”  
  
“You spent the entire month there, so it couldn't have been that bad. Right?”  
  
“It was beautiful of course,” Akira says, eyes misty with the fresh memories. “I want to take you there someday.”  
  
“Let's get through this trip before we start planning anything else,” Ryuji snorts. He jabs his elbow lightly against Akira's side. “So where do you want to go first? The beach? We could drive out to San Diego to see the zoo.”  
  
“Anywhere is fine. I just have some rules in mind...”  
  
“Oh no, not this. C'mon man, don't start making a list of rules we gotta follow.”  
  
“Why not? It's always fun breaking them.”  
  
“You know why not,” Ryuji sighs as they exit the elevator. Just outside a set of sliding doors, they emerge into the warm California sun. “There's only one rule on this trip and it's that we're not allowed to have any other rules. I just want to spend as much time with you as I can. I missed you.”  
  
“Sakamoto, are you getting all mushy on me?” Akira hooks his arm through Ryuji's and pulls him towards the rental car kiosk. “When we get back to Tokyo, move in with me.”  
  
“W-What? Innit it kinda sudden to be askin' that?!”  
  
“We've been going out for half a year now. I'm not sure what the time limits on things like this usually are.”  
  
“I'm not against it, it's just...a lot to think about. And what about my mom? She's gonna flip her shit when we tell her. You have to promise to deal with the fallout. She'll want to visit.”  
  
“I'll handle all the details. I promise.”  
  
“Also, I want a dog.”  
  
“What about Morgana?”  
  
“He's a cat! It's completely different,” Ryuji insists. “That and I think he's got it out for me. You've seen how he looks at me.”  
  
“Alright then, we'll get a dog.” Akira relents, “But I get to pick it out.”  
  
“No way. You'll pick something weird like a tiny poodle!”  
  
“Fine, you can pick the dog and I can make my trip rules.”  
  
“You're still on about that?!”  
  
“Rule number one,” Akira calls over his shoulder as he steps ahead to collect the keys. “I'm driving.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah. Go get the keys already, man,” Ryuji watches Akira go, unable to keep from smiling. All of his earlier worries melt away, like snow leading into spring and then into summer. A bright sun shines overhead. Ryuji lifts a hand up over his eyes to see beyond the horizon.  
  
Their next big adventure is waiting for them.


	9. Bonus: Captain Kidd's Zoo and Alligator Sanctuary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this intending for it to be part of chapter 7. It kind of felt like I was dragging the story out though, so I ended up removing it. However, I thought it was still cute and that it might still be worth reading. So here it is as a bonus!

**Akira**  
  
Akira stops to refuel at a gas station three hours outside Tokyo. Ryuji bolts from the car, eager to stretch his legs. He's walking with a bounce in his step towards the convenience store, armed with a mental list of snacks to buy. Akira watches him, a soft smile on his lips.  
  
It's hard for him to think about how they were a day and a half ago. Ryuji had been so angry, and Akira so unsure. Dropping everything to drive out to Ryuji's hometown had been an incredible risk. Akira never could have predicted their happy ending. Though he had desperately hoped for it.  
  
“Why don't we stop somewhere to get some real food?” Akira offers as Ryuji approaches.  
  
“But I just got snacks,” Ryuji replies. He nods down to where his arms are loaded up with bags of chips, cookies, and at least three kinds of soft drinks. “Oh yeah, you don't like junky food.”  
  
“It's not that,” Akira says, rocking back and forth between his heels and toes. “I want to go on a date.”  
  
“Wha-... Here?! Now?!”  
  
“Why not? Romance can exist anywhere.”  
  
“R-Romance, huh?”  
  
“It's still early in the day,” Akira presses. “We can drive down the road and see what we find.”  
  
Ryuji looks skeptical for a moment, and then his entire demeanor changes.  
  
“Y'know what? Sure, man.” Ryuji grins and shrugs. “Let's see where it takes us.”  
  
Back in the car, Ryuji switches out the tape. He's been dutifully doing so since they first set out, despite the fact that neither one of them enjoys the music. They had tried once or twice to tune the radio, but the signal had been choppy.  
  
“This sounds like the stuff my mom listens to,” Ryuji says as the tape begins to play. “Y'know, when I was younger, people used to think she was my older sister instead of my mom. She had me real young.”  
  
“I was fairly surprised myself,” Akira agrees. “I admire your close relationship.”  
  
“I always try to do right by her. She put up with a lot of bullshit for my sake.”  
  
“Mr. Softie.”  
  
“Hey,” Ryuji huffs, though he's smiling. “Don't make fun of me. I'm not one of those Momma's Boy stereotypes. I genuinely care about her.”  
  
“I know you do,” Akira assures him. “Was she really in a motorcycle gang?”  
  
“Yeah! I know it sounds crazy, but she was really tough,” Ryuji says, his tone thoughtful. “I'm real surprised she never hit back at my dad. I could sometimes tell that she wanted to. She told me once that it's because she didn't want to be an example of violence. Honestly, though, I'd have liked to see her do it. Just once, because he deserved it.”  
  
“How old were you when he left?”  
  
“Summer before I started high school. Fourteen, maybe fifteen. Somethin' like that.”  
  
“He just walked out?” Akira asks in a level tone. He's pushing for details, but thankfully Ryuji seems to be in an open mood.  
  
“I mean, more or less,” he says with a shrug. “Packed his shit, took all our money and walked. Towards the end, he was drinking so much that all he did was sleep. I think that pissed me off worse than anything. He was blowing through all the money my mom made just to nap all day long. I almost preferred it when he would hit me.”  
  
The car falls into a tense and uncomfortable silence. Ryuji doesn't have any more to say and Akira isn't sure how to respond. He doesn't want to apologize, as it seems too much like pity. Akira's mind reels to think of a way to change the topic.  
  
He doesn't have to suffer for long. In the distance, his eyes catch sight of a rare gem.  
  
“Let's go there,” Akira says, pointing to a billboard. He slows their speed a bit so that Ryuji has time to see it.  
  
“Captain Kidd's Zoo and Alligator Sanctuary...?” Ryuji reads the words out loud, a huge smile on his face. “For real?! That sounds so badass! We should totally go!”  
  
“Wanna stay the night? They've got an 'Ocean Grotto Motel'.”  
  
“We ain't that far from Tokyo.”  
  
“I know, but you still have a day or two before you have to go back to work,” Akira says, changing lanes for the upcoming exit. “We can drive the last stretch tomorrow.”  
  
“Alright, if you're cool, I'm cool,” Ryuji says, trying to sound casual. Akira can see him nearly vibrating with excitement. It's not the sort of place Akira would normally choose to go to, but with Ryuji it has potential.  
  
They arrive a short time later and check into the motel. The room is ocean-themed, with nautical decorations and shell patterned wallpaper. Akira wasn't expecting much but despite the gaudy décor, everything seems well-kept and clean. He dips into the bathroom to tidy up a bit, returning to find Ryuji sprawled out over one of the beds.  
  
“They're waterbeds!” He exclaims, patting his arm over the surface of the mattress. His skin slaps against it and the water inside sloshes.  
  
“What?!” Akira crosses the room to confirm it for himself. He reaches out to touch the edge of the mattress, only to have it dip down awkwardly away from him. “This is going to wreck my back.”  
  
“What are you? An old man?”  
  
“I hate mattresses that are too soft.”  
  
“I'm sure you'll survive,” Ryuji says with an eye roll and a grin. He turns over onto his stomach, body lurching as the water shifts under him. “This is so cool!”  
  
“Well, I'm glad you like it,” Akira sighs, moving to sit on the other bed. His body nearly slides off the side and onto the floor. He flails, catching himself on the nightstand. It sends Ryuji off into a hysterical burst of laughter. Ears burning, Akira mumbles, “It's not that funny.”  
  
“I'm sorry, man. It was just your face- It-”  
  
“Why don't we go get something to eat?” Akira suggests. He stands up and smooths his hands down the front of his shirt to straighten it. “Then after we can go see the animals.”  
  
“Sounds good to me,” Ryuji instantly sobers at the mention of food.  
  
They find a cafe in the nearby town. It's a hole-in-the-wall sort of place that reminds Akira of Le Blanc. They serve coffee, tea, and made to order sandwiches. The aura inside the small space is cozy, bordering on dreamy. Akira couldn't have planned a better spot for a romantic lunch if he tried.  
  
“Order anything you like, it's on me,” Akira says as he gazes up at the menu.  
  
“Pullin' out all the stops, huh?” Ryuji jabs him in the side with an elbow, grinning eagerly. “Don't blame me when I run up a huge tab.”  
  
Thankfully, Ryuji's appetite is smaller than his mouth.  
  
“Are you sure you're good to be paying for all this?” Ryuji wonders as they seat themselves at a table. “You had to sell your car.”  
  
“I'm okay,” Akira assures him. “Kawakami paid me a large bonus for doing that assignment over Christmas. I'm just using a little bit from that.”  
  
“Oh yeah, I got a good bonus too. I pretty much did a backflip when I saw it.”  
  
“Thank you for checking,” Akira says in a soft voice. He reaches across the table to lightly set his hand over one of Ryuji's. It's a brief touch, but it brings a smile to both their faces. “I grew up with a lot of money but I've learned over the years how to be frugal. I don't have any kind of selfish pride surrounding my finances. I promise, if it was an issue, I would tell you.”  
  
“I appreciate that,” Ryuji says honestly. “Your money ain't my business, but I never want you to feel like you have to go all out with it to impress me.”  
  
“You mean I don't?”  
  
“C'mon man! Don't joke about it.”  
  
“No,” Akira says around a soft smile. “I understand what you're telling me. Your love language seems to be geared more towards simple domestic pursuits.”  
  
“Love language?” Ryuji says the words with an air of disbelief. “The heck you talkin' about? That sounds so lame.”  
  
“What can I say? I'm a romantic at heart.”  
  
“You're a cheeseball.”  
  
“And you're not being cute,” Akira scolds lightly.  
  
Ryuji's laughter fills the small space, warm like sunlight.  
  
* * *  
  
After lunch, Ryuji and Akira return to the zoo to check out the animals. They're some of the only people there. Business is slow directly following the New Years holiday. It gives them room to relax and take their time looking at the exhibits. Ryuji hasn't stopped smiling since they began walking around. He's got his camera out, snapping photos and reading facts off the informational signs.  
  
“So like, the guy who owns this place started it as a rescue for alligators,” Ryuji explains. They've stopped to rest, sitting close together on a bench to keep warm in the cold winter afternoon. “He was savin' them from being turned into shoes and purses 'n stuff. Then he took in a bunch of other exotic animals. Castoffs from circuses and illegal ownership.”  
  
“I'm pretty impressed myself,” Akira says. “Normally little off the road zoos like this are iffy.”  
  
“S'good that this one cares for their animals.”  
  
“The map says there's a bug house. Should we go there next?”  
  
“A bug house?!” Ryuji springs to his feet. “C'mon! Let's go!”  
  
Before Akira can even react, Ryuji runs off ahead, in the wrong direction of course. He's quick to return when he realizes he's not being followed.  
  
“It's the other way, huh?”  
  
“It is,” Akira smirks. He offers his hand to Ryuji, who eagerly takes hold of it.  
  
“You're still wearing those gloves I got ya,” Ryuji observes. “You like them that much?”  
  
“They're perfect for me.”  
  
“It's gonna be real hard to one-up myself next Christmas.”  
  
“You don't have to one-up yourself. I'm fine with anything,” Akira says, giving Ryuji's hand a light squeeze.  
  
The Bug House is as fascinating as the rest of the zoo. There are dozens of species on display, from stinkbugs to scorpions, giant roaches to tarantulas. Akira hates every moment of it, but seeing Ryuji all riled up again is worth the discomfort. His excitement has a childlike quality that is as irresistible as it is infectious.  
  
Akira feeds into that excitement by starting up an insult game. Offhand he implies that Ryuji resembles one of the caged dung beetles. To which Ryuji accuses him of looking like a hissing cockroach. They continue to pick new and worse bugs for each other until they run out of good candidates.  
  
The final stop on their zoo tour is the Alligator 'Swamp'. Due to the coldness of the weather, all the reptiles have been moved indoors, but they're still available to be viewed. Inside huge glass-fronted enclosures, the alligators lounge. Most are asleep on faux rock formations, but a few swim through heated pools of water. One of them swims up next to the viewing window and Ryuji snaps a photo of it through the glass. He's so amazed by the giant reptiles that Akira buys him a wooden carved one from the zoo's gift-shop.  
  
It's the perfect ending to their date.  
  
“You're so 'by the book' romantic,” Ryuji says when they're back in the motel room. He's sprawled across his bed, the small alligator carving set atop his chest. “Lunch, a date at the zoo, souvenir.”  
  
“Are you complaining?” Akira asks though he can tell from Ryuji's tone that he's not. “You look pretty satisfied.”  
  
“I am. I'd probably call you to go out again.”  
  
“High praise.”  
  
“To be honest,” Ryuji says, speaking slowly. “Today's been kind of amazin'. I'm real happy that we stopped here.”  
  
“Me too,” Akira murmurs moving to sit on the edge of the bed. He falls backward over Ryuji's legs, forgetting again about the unstable water-filled mattress. Ryuji laughs at him and the sound makes his ears burn, but he doesn't bother getting back up. “Is it weird if I ask to sleep next to you tonight?”  
  
“For real?” Ryuji glances down at him. “'Course it's fine, man. I uh, wanted to sleep with you back at my house, but my bed's too small.”  
  
“Really? You should have said so. I would have come down onto the futon with you.”  
  
“I know, I know, I was shy or somethin'”  
  
“Are you going to snore all night?” Akira teases, wriggling his way up the mattress to lay next to Ryuji.  
  
“I don't snore!”  
  
“You sound like a drowning elephant.” Akira goads, earning himself a pillow to the face.  
  
“Eff you,” Ryuji huffs. Due to the buoyancy of the water bed, they tumble closer together.  
  
“All day I've been thinking about kissing you,” Akira murmurs. A bright red flush travels up the back of Ryuji's neck and ears. It's an adorable reaction.  
  
“So what are you waitin' for then? We're datin', you don't gotta ask permission. Or have you forgotten already?”  
  
“I haven't forgotten.”  
  
“So have some confidence,” Ryuji encourages, though it looks like he might be saying it more to himself. “Take what you want.”  
  
“Sakamoto,” Akira says around a sly smile. “Are you trying to seduce me?”  
  
“A'course I am-”  
  
Akira kisses him.  
  
The night is long, and the waterbed uncomfortable, but neither one of them cares. They're together and that's what's important.  
  
 **Ryuji**  
  
“Why're we stoppin'?” Ryuji wonders. They're back in Tokyo, but he has no idea where exactly. Akira's parked them in an unknown neighborhood.  
  
“I want you to meet someone,” Akira tells him, stepping out of the car. Ryuji scrambles out after him. It feels good to stand after being in the car for so long.  
  
They walk down a long alleyway, past a convenience store, and a few small mom-and-pop style stores. Akira strolls with confidence, clearly at home in this tiny section of town. He turns a corner and walks down to stop in front of a coffee shop. The awning above the doorway reads 'Coffee & Curry, Leblanc'.  
  
“Wait,” Ryuji comes to a full stop, staring up at the awning with wide eyes. “So this is the coffee shop...”  
  
“I told Sojiro and Futaba that I was going to bring you by to meet them. I hope that's okay,” Akira shifts nervously from foot to foot, lingering in front of the doorway. “I should have warned you.”  
  
“No man, it's okay. You met my mom, so this is like... Me meeting your family.”  
  
“It's really okay?”  
  
“I'm pretty serious about you, y'know,” Ryuji says around a smile. “Gonna have to meet 'em someday, right? Let's go in.”  
  
Akira smiles and the sight of it takes Ryuji's breath away. They enter the cafe hand in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 Thanks for reading! <3


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